Watching
by SuprSingr
Summary: Brainy has always been the quiet type, and he's happy that way. He likes standing at the back of the room and watching people. He's accustomed to silence. So what happens when the presence of a new friend suddenly has him not so sure of himself anymore? Contains long musings on the following pairings: RhondaxCurly, PeapodxNadine, HaroldxPatty, and of course, ArnoldxHelga.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Wellll, let's see, where do I even start... Well, I wrote this a year ago. Literally, a year ago. I was going to post it in February for Valentines Day but I couldn't meet the deadline so I just gave up. Once more, it has been a _year_ since I wrote this and reading it back, I have to say... What the hell was wrong with me?

Let me just get this out: I loathe, hate and despise this story with every fiber of my being. Everything about it is awful, and it makes me want to claw my eyes out and cry. But seeing as this is Fanfiction, I figure... whatever. I've read worse. I've certainly _favorited_ worse. So, for those who may be able to find something of worth in this, here's what I've got. I just want it out of my files, okay? *Cries into cornflakes* I WORKED TOO LONG ON IT TO JUST DELETE IT.

It is not finished, and I will be parting it up because I think it reads better that way. One chapter a week. Every Friday. How's that sound? If people take enough interest, I might even finish up the last crappy little chapter and be done with it. :P But... I don't really want to. xD

Whatevs. File clearing.

For the record, I don't ship Brainy with Astrid anymore, or with anyone, tbh. Not really. xD You guys are welcome to if you like it, but I just... Idk. I have my reasons for it but I won't bore you. xD IT'S BECAUSE HE'S GAY, CRAIG B CONFIRMED—No, no xDDD They're just kinda long, and this A/N is already long as is, so xD

I wrote the disclaimer a year ago, too, and don't really wanna change it... Reading it back's kinda funny. xD The poem mentioned in the disclaimer I never got around to putting in the story, so don't expect to ever actually see it... I just don't want to delete that part of the disclaimer. xD Posterity, yo.

NOW GO READ.

**Disclaimer**: Yeeeaaah, I don't own crap. "_HA!_" isn't anywhere near mine, and neither is Peapod Kid's "real" name, _Pea_rce _Pod_alecki. I got it from the story "_The Heart Never Lies_" (READ IT), thought it was genius. Also, there is a joke in here that I may have written with another joke I read off of twitter in mind. I don't know where it came from, but in the spirit of being a creator, not a copier, I elaborated on the joke, " 'Oh, you're British, so do you have tea with the queen?' 'Do you have McNuggets with Obama?' " or something along those lines. But I do own Astrid. She is of my creation. And about equally a pain in my butt to write out as Brainy. I curse the day I pulled that lever! *Shakes fist to the sky_* _Oh, I also own the poem near the end there. I wrote that, so _no stealy_. xP Lol, but you won't be seeing that for a _while_. Pack a lunch, mules. :P xD

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**Watching**

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People fascinate me. With how they act and deal with certain situations in their lives. I just find it an all around interesting display they put on. They don't even realize how they look to the outside world. They're much too occupied with their own foolish problems and lives, and are otherwise blind to the obvious in most cases. It really can be quite pathetic at times.

That's why I love watching people. I've never been much of a talker, but that doesn't mean I don't exist. That I'm not still here. I see everything that goes on around me. And I won't lie. Most of the time, it's absolutely hilarious. If people paid me more attention, they might notice. The spark of insidiousness in my eye, the smile barely visible against my heavily breathing lips, the way my eyes shift around the room. It's like I'm in my own personal soap opera, and I'm just one of the generic background characters that always seems to be randomly present in the room. And I really must admit, I love it.

I'll never be the main character in this twisted story we call life. I'll never be the leading man or the dashing prince or 'Mr. Right.' But that doesn't concern me, nor will it ever. I'm more than content to be invisible to the rest of the group. It allows me so much better of a vantage point. And with how crazy my dear friends can be all the time, I'll need it.

I wouldn't exactly call myself a Rhonda Lloyd-type ephishianado or anything of the sort, because I do not use my extensive knowledge on my classmates to cause trouble or spread gossip, but I do make the extra effort to know what's going on at all times. Simply because I find it entertaining, and these _are_ my friends.

In the last few years, much has changed. Particularly with me. With recent changes to the social diameter of our 'gang,' if you will, I've had to make adjustments to my routine… many adjustments.

To start, since we all hit the life-changing stage of preteen (or twelve, if you will), my friends have been pairing off like love bugs. Every one of the pairings has had me moderately unsurprised, as I have been watching these people for years and predicted early on who would most likely end up with who, but there were one or two that made my eyes widen for a second or two. Although all the signs had been there since early on, I hadn't thought they'd come together this soon. Not until sometime around the age of sixteen or seventeen as perhaps a drunken make out session at a party, but at twelve? I had to admit, I was impressed.

Rhonda and Curly were the most shocking to me. Curly had been pursuing Rhonda voraciously for many years, but Rhonda had been rejecting him for just as long, in a possibly even more excitable manner than what was originally demonstrated in his advances. Their relationship was very touch-and-go. There was just as likely a chance that they'd end up together as there was they would not. For a while, back at the beginning of the fourth grade when Rhonda had been showing interest in Harold, I'd thought Curly's boisterous adoration was just as doomed as my—… I thought it was doomed.

He was persistent, though… I always admired that of him. He didn't let the signs get him down. He was one of the reasons I'd decided to pursue my own heart's desires at one point… but I'd regretted it. I still to this day don't know how Curly managed to keep it up for so long, when so much was against him. I suppose it was because Curly knew his love was meant to be. That was always a comfort I found myself lacking…

But as it would turn out, Rhonda's crush on Harold had been brief, and for no more reason than that he was the oldest in the class and supposedly 'mature'… She was sorely disappointed later on, though, and did everything she could to cover up her little 'mistake.' I'd heard her pledge later on that she would not be having any more casualties to her reputation. Which I thought to be yet another strike against Curly's chances.

After all, Curly was and always had been a geek. I knew because I was inevitably classified as such as well. You can't have glasses, asthma, and allergies without being a geek, apparently. Not to mention my high academic prowess, though that was kept relatively quiet. I'd been offered awards before, but I always forfeited. I didn't want the attention. Curly, however, was a geek in a different sort. He wore glasses, had a bowl cut, had always been short, and it was to my understanding that he also had some allergies to certain plants and gerbils (oddly enough). But for the most part, it was simply because of how… different, he was. He was, kindly put, a freak… No, honestly, that truly is as kindly as it can be put. He'd always been excitable, his sanity always in question, and sometimes I'd heard jokes before that he wore glasses that thick and difficult to see-through so people couldn't see his eyes violently twitching on a regular basis. Though I have always considered Curly a good friend of mine, I wouldn't be surprised to find that the rumors were true. He is very… eccentric.

When it came to Rhonda, the self-proclaimed most popular girl in school, dating a geek-ridden lunatic would be about as horrifically self-destructive as a nuclear bomb to Washington DC.

Logically, to me, it had always made more sense for her to end up with Harold. Simply because she was a popular girl, and he was a bully. I could easily see Harold becoming the quarter back for our football team in High School, with the help of Rhonda, his style and hygiene increasing, thanks to Rhonda, and his overall popularity going through the roof, thanks to Rhonda. The idea worried me, though. Harold had shown a willingness to change before, and I knew Rhonda would take advantage of that. But the changes wouldn't necessarily be for the better. He had and always would be a loud brute with a simple intellect (not low, mind you, but simply designed), and who knew what popularity and the encouragement to _be_ a loud brute would do to him. And Rhonda? She would never change. She'd proven that. She had the ability to adapt, and as a future businesswoman, she would need that, but at the end of the day, she would still be the same self-indulgent, proud heiress she'd always been. She would _never_ change. This was why the idea of Harold and Rhonda together worried me, but logically, it was what I found to be most likely. After all, it made much more sense than Rhonda suddenly finding herself to be deeply in love with an insane, nerdy, overly-excitable geek.

Yet they'd made it together. I was pleasantly surprised. Some part of me had always hoped they would end up together, but that hope had been forgotten and washed away with the pairing off of two other friends of mine. Because someone as crazy and geeky as Curly ending up with the most popular girl in our class gave me hope that perhaps I could do the same… But I could no longer hope for such things. Now all I could do was simply be happy my friend had finally gotten what he'd always wanted. And I was. Very.

It had been such a complicated process, and their relationship such a sudden and unexpected occurrence. This was one of the many reasons I loved being the shadow in the room. I _loved_ complicated things. I had had a front row seat to everything that had happened, and nothing to distract me from my observations. I had seen the desperate, embarrassed looks from Rhonda. The excited, smug bravado Curly had suddenly had on. Something had happened. I'd known it long before the two hours had passed and a sudden loud, unauthorized proclamation had sounded over the PA system that he'd finally "won Rhonda over" and "true love truly does conquer all." Rhonda had been horrified, but Curly was rather unpredictable, not to mention mentally unstable. She really should have kept a closer eye on him.

Though unlike my fellow classmates, I was probably the only one who knew there was always a method to Curly's madness. Despite popular belief, he never did anything crazy unless first provoked. Once around April Fools Day I'd been sitting next to Curly and I heard him suddenly whispering about Rhonda complaining about the bell being too loud. Next thing I'd known he'd dismantled the bell all together and was laughing maniacally from a ladder he'd somehow managed to steal from the janitor's closet.

So I knew why Curly had made that announcement. He knew Rhonda would try to keep her feelings for him a secret. She wouldn't want her reputation tainted. She'd try to keep it under wraps, destroy it all together, then sweep it under the rug before anyone ever caught a whiff of it. Getting it all out in the open would mean she'd have to learn to adapt and accept it. It really was quite genius.

…Or so I thought that was why he did it, anyway. As I stated previously, Curly _is_ unpredictable. He very well could have just done it because the thought popped into his head.

There was no telling. But Rhonda liked drama… and Curly could certainly bring that. _Twenty-four hours a day_…

Their getting together had not necessarily had any impact on my own daily tendencies, though, mind you. Although it did cause a rather sudden spike in my social life, as Rhonda suddenly had the urge to host a party every other week or so to celebrate random anniversaries between her and "Thad," as she'd suddenly decided she'd call him. Any excuse to have a party.

Which is actually where I find myself right now. I forget what month we're celebrating this time, but Rhonda's entertaining her guests as usual with Curly on her arm, in an attempt to keep him out of trouble, I'm sure. She pays me no mind as I stand at the back of the room, keeping up a smile just in case so she doesn't feel the need to make sure I'm having a fantastic time.

I'm not really, though. These parties are fun, I suppose, but tonight has been rather uneventful. I'm content to just stand here, thinking about my classmates. Something about the last month or two has made me very thoughtful of my past. I'm not sure what, though.

Perhaps it's Helga and Arnold dancing over at the other end of the room. They look… happy. It makes me feel a bit… or a lot… Oh, it just makes me feel _bad_.

The two got together _years_ ago, though. Two, to be exact. Really closer to three. And five months. Not that I was counting or anything…

I've been happy for them. I truly have been. I've cut myself off from… from everything. I don't… stalk… I don't write poetry anymore… I don't kiss my pillow… I've thrown out the pictures, burned any small… shrine-like… things… I just exist, and continue to find joy in the simple pleasures of watching. The thing I've always loved. I find solace in silence, comfort in the sounds of my own breathing, enjoyment in quiet, unnoticed observation. I know everything about these people. I have known them my entire life. Sure, I've had a few slip-ups and followed her home once or twice out of habit, just to… just to make sure she's happy. And one or two poems might have come out of it, but I did what I always did with them. I folded them up and hid them under my mattress, with the rest of them.

Sometimes they keep me up at night. Sleeping on my secrets, my obsessive past only a turn of the sheets away. Sometimes I think it would be best to burn them, but it would hurt too much. A little piece of my soul is in every one of them. Destroying them would feel too much like destroying myself.

My wheezing has become considerably heavier so I begrudgingly take out my inhaler and take a puff of it before putting it back in my pocket. I've always had the thing, but it just seemed pointless to use it. Who did I need to talk to? I had no such desire. It was a good excuse _not_ to. And besides, I could say a few words perfectly fine without it if ever required. I did, however, use it to keep quiet sometimes. I used it before class, I used it before when I wanted to keep a low profile when… _ahem_, stalking, and I used it before sports so I wouldn't die. Nobody ever knew I used it, though. Apparently. I'd had no idea my keeping a low profile was equivalent to everyone thinking I didn't require medication. I'd heard rumors people actually thought I had some kind of mental issues.

I chuckle softly to myself at the notion, a deep, slightly breathy sound. I'm used to it, after all. I _am_ a geek, and having such a status meant I had to bear certain social burdens. I just find it funny, though. Sometimes baffling, but overall amusing. I've been made fun of for my wheezing, my pale complexion and platinum hair that practically blend right in together, and for my prematurely deep voice. I can't really blame them. I am an odd sight, I guess.

I've been alone for a long time now, with no more company than my fellow geeks during recess and the occasional emails from other fellow geeks, but in the last couple months I have made one new friend.

I feel the need to mention so because she's coming in right now. I'm surprised she's late, but it's only by a little while and a few others have still yet to show. Unlike me, she's a social butterfly, so upon arrival she finds herself in a conversation with Rhonda, Curly still welded to her arm, and several other random somebodies. It's surprising, really. I'd have never expected to find myself in such a close friendship with such a person. She's rather excitable at times, which can be unnerving. I take another swig of my inhaler just in case I need to talk myself out of something. She likes to try to make me… _do_ things. Which I am in no mood for tonight.

After a few minutes worth of chatting, she spots me and a grin splits her face as she makes her way over. Rhonda called for a formal event tonight so she's wearing a dress… Not much different from usual. She _always_ looks like she's wearing a dress. I never understood that. I should probably ask sometime… Though Arnold's fascination with kilts never concerned me enough to ask. But then again I'm not particularly close to him. But—Oh, I'm rambling. Forget it.

Her dress is a simple, royal purple that goes just past her knees in a gentle, flowing fabric, and she apparently decided black tights were in order. She's wearing a small black sweater over her sleeves, so I can't see whether they're spaghetti strap or just short, and her shoes are simple black flats. Her hair looks the same as always—light brown curls and waves held back by her usual thick white headband, and two thick tendrils on either side of her face. It looks much more tended to tonight, though. More clean. She really put in an effort to look nice tonight. I can't imagine why, though. Despite Rhonda's claims, these parties are nothing special of any sort. There'll be another one next Friday, on the dot. She knows that.

As she finally makes it all the way over to my secluded shadowy corner, her mouth is open immediately, "Hey, Brainiac. I see you're being your usual social self, yes?" She smirks.

I just force a wheeze at her, hoping she'll buy that I haven't taken my medicine yet so I won't have to respond.

No such luck. "Oh, please, Brainy, you don't really think me that dim, do you? I saw you take your inhaler out as soon as I walked in," she says dryly, her English accent heavy in her sarcasm.

I still wonder sometimes why someone would come to a relatively small and unknown city like Hillwood from someplace as exciting as _England_. What did we have to offer that was so great that they had to move here in the middle of the school year? I really try not to question it, though. It's none of my business. Besides, Peapod Kid's parents are English, too. Plus there was that famous British fashion designer that came here years ago. So we must have _something_ of intrigue here. I guess small places do have their charms.

And she does seem to have a fascination with small things… like me.

Sighing, I reply wearily, "I don't think you're dumb… I just…"

"Not really in much of a mood for talking?"

I look up to find that her crystally blue eyes are sympathetic and soft, and I have to blink a few times to find a response, "Well, yes." She always seems to know what's wrong. It's something I really like about her. I value silence, and I never have to say more than a few words before she understands what I'm trying to say. She can read me like a book… Or, well, she can read _everyone_ that way. Not just me. She just catches drift of things quickly is all.

She nods in understanding and shifts so she's against the wall next to me, her posture straight. I take an unconscious step to the left to make room for her, but find myself hitting the wall on the other side of my little corner. Her voice breaks me from my slight surprise as she says, "Something wrong I can help with? Or is this just the usual 'I don't like talking and want to be creepy' thing?" She laughs quietly, mindful to keep a low profile in case I do wish to share my troubles. I don't really know if I do, though. Nonetheless, I give her a slight, amused look at her description. The joke is old between us now. We both know I'm a loner.

I just shrug slightly and sigh, knowing I owe her a response. I'm still a bit unused to all the talking. No one's ever cared to ask before. I don't know if I'm ready to talk to her about my problematic love life, though. It'd just feel… weird. After all, we have been friends for a while now, she's been to my house and I've been to hers, we've 'hung out'—how could I, after all that, bring up… _Helga_?

But then again… why shouldn't I? Like I said before, we have become rather close. Maybe it would do me some good to talk about it for once.

Unsurely, my eyes shift a few times before I look at her again, seeing her attentive gaze on me. Her eyes are almost piercing with their gaze, and I know it won't be long before she nudges me again, so if I'm going to do this, now would be a good time. "Okay, well… uh…" I bite the inside of my cheek, contemplating a good way to continue… Finally, I sigh and just go for it. "Astrid, have you ever been in love before?"

Her eyes go wide instantly and I find myself blinking a few times, trying to recover, as if she just lodged a knife through me. Her eyes do that. They're blue, but it's an almost sharp blue. Not like Helga's deep, rich, hypnotic blue but… just so… _there_. After a few moments I regain my composure and smile a tad sheepishly at her, embarrassed by my own question. She's only twelve, but she's a mature twelve. The possibility is definitely there. I'm sure at some point she's loved someone, or at least had a crush… With how bouncy and all over the place she can be sometimes, she's probably had several.

She suddenly slumps a bit against the wall and giggles oddly, her eyes closed. "Brainy, me? In love? Never! That's an absolutely ridiculous—WHOA!" Apparently she'd slumped a bit too much in her slippery shoes, because suddenly she was on the floor, one shoe half off and one of her curls resting on top of her slightly pointed nose. She blinks several times rapidly in utter shock, her lips in a thin, tight line.

My jaw drops and I instantly drop to the floor next to her, grabbing one of her arms and preparing to pull her up. She jumps at my touch though as if my hands were on fire and throws herself back, raising her voice slightly to say, "N-Now, I can get up just fine myself, thank you!" Instantly disproving that theory, she grabs onto the table cloth of one of the many tables set up about the room and pulls to try to get up, but by doing so ends up pulling half the snacks off of the table entirely and onto the floor with several crashes. Screeching, she grabs the table quickly and pulls herself up, but the mass of white cloth underneath her causes her to slip again and another snack plate to fall that had been teetering on the edge. Sitting on the floor in shock, she just stays there, scared to move again without causing further disaster.

"Uh…" is all I can utter, my mouth agape.

Astrid blinks a few times rapidly, before her voice comes in a squeak, crashing into the silence of the room, "I think I'd like that help now, please."

"Uh, right," I mutter, nervous at all the eyes on me, and move to take her hand. She flinches, probably still in shock at all that just happened, before pulling herself up with my help. Now standing, she dusts off her dress, straightens her headband, and turns to the wide-eyed room, slightly shaking. "Sorry…" Turning to Rhonda then, seeming almost like an afterthought, her expression turns ashamed as she says, "My mom will pay for the food I ruined, and the dishes. My deepest apologies."

Rhonda's response is instant, though, her eyes wide and sympathetic, though slightly haughty, "Oh, _Darling_, after a display as embarrassing as _that_? Your family's pride has been punished enough. It's fine. I'm rich, remember? I can more than cover it." She smiles in an attempt to be kind, but it just comes off as slightly smug at being able to state on record she's rich once more in her life.

Curly looks enchanted by her words, though, and comes forward to dramatically proclaim in addition to her speech, "As a new member in our medley, you _are_ allowed a few slip-ups! Don't sweat it, babe."

Eugene rolls himself forward in his wheelchair then, his neck in a brace, laughing cheerfully. "Heck, I make at _least_ one a day. Why, if I hadn't fallen off Arnold's roof this morning when we were doing our project on his pet pigeons, I'd have probably already done that ten minutes ago!" He grins.

Astrid merely stares at him, still shaking. After a second she forces a smile and mutters, "Thank you," before running out of the room. Eyes suddenly turning on me, I feel like a deer in headlights. Oh, crap. I've never been the center of attention before. Offering a wheezy smile, I run out of the room after her.

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**A/N:** Next crapter on Friday. XD See y'all then.**_  
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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Ah, screw it. I don't want to draw this out. I'm getting it all out now. Deal.

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**Watching**

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I come to the front door and open it enough to peek out quietly, finding her sitting on the stoop.

"Hi," I say softly in my deep tone of voice, startling her apparently, as she jumps before turning around. Her eyes are wide, but I'm happy to find no tears… I'm not surprised to find she wasn't crying, though. I've yet to see her do so. She's too strong. I smile and come fully outside, shutting the door softly behind me.

"Blast, Brainy, you nearly gave me a bloody heart attack." She sighs heavily, a hand to her chest.

"Shhh," I admonish her, sitting next to her on the stoop. "You should really stop saying that. Isn't that a curse word?"

"Blast? I hardly think so," she says dryly.

"No, no, that other word. The one you're so fond of."

"You mean bloody?" she asks, her eyes widening a moment before falling half-lidded. "Oh… I suppose. I've never thought about it before. It's really rather mild." Smirking suddenly she nudges me in the shoulder. "Why so concerned, Brainiac? Afraid you may have befriended a potty mouth?"

I shake my head at her, before concern enters my gaze once more, and I put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes widen, the amusement gone, and I see her gaze drop to my hand on her shoulder for a few seconds. I start to worry she doesn't like me touching her, but her voice cuts off any forming concerns, "I'm fine. Really. I just slipped, and your question was… a tad too funny, apparently." She looks away from me.

I understand she's embarrassed by her few little slip-ups back there, but I hope she knows it's fine. We really _are_ used to things like that from Eugene. It's nothing new. Although I am surprised at her sudden burst of clumsiness. She's usually so composed. Taking in a large, slightly wheezing breath of air, I repeat in slight amusement, "Apparently." Smiling then, I take my hand off her shoulder and slump forward more, letting out a slight, airy wheeze into the cold night. "So you've really never been in love before? Not even a crush?"

Astrid looks at me with a raised eyebrow for a few moments before blinking, simply, and saying incredulously, "What with all the moving, what time have I ever had for love? Besides, that's something more for grown ups, isn't it? Not us. We're still just kids." Leaning back on the stoop on her elbows, she looks up, letting out a harsh breath that I can hear. "Odd question…" I hear her mutter.

I shake slightly at the summary. "Well, then it's going to be kinda difficult to explain to you what's bothering me."

There's several seconds worth of silence between us then, before I suddenly hear an almost tentative, "Oh?"

I nod, still not looking at her. "Yeah." Taking my glasses off, I use the wrist of my sleeve to clean the lenses, before staring at them dully in the light of the windows. "I've had this pair for a full year now… Unbroken."

Her response is a humorous, "Brilliant, Brainy. You've managed to not fall flat on your face for a full year now. Good show."

Sighing, I put my glasses back on and lean back on the stoop next to her, not looking at her as I admit, "Astrid, you… you don't know me as well as you think. You only just moved here a few months ago… In the past two years, I've been… different. I've had to change a lot of things about myself…"

She looks at me curiously, the intrigue written all over her face. "Truly? Because within the past few weeks I'd really thought I'd had a handle on figuring you out. You didn't kill anyone did you?"

I nearly snort at that, my eyes turning widely on her at the ridiculous idea. Her eyes widen at my reaction, though, and she gasps. "Oh, Brainy, seriously_?_! You didn't! I'd only been joking, but… _really?_!"

My jaw dropping a second, I shake my head in a fit of panic and grab her shoulders to calm her down. "No, no, Astrid! Of course not!"

Her logic returning to her, she blinks a few times before nodding, trembling slightly. I must have spooked her more than I thought. A frown digs at my lips and I try to soothe her nerves, "That's not what I meant. I just meant that for… a long time, I was slightly different from how I am now…"

"Ohhh…" She looks relieved. I can't help but be slightly amused. Suddenly her curiosity is clear across her face again, and she inquires, "In what ways?"

Humorously enough, I can't help but note to myself that this is possibly the first time in the history of our short friendship that _I've_ actually talked more than _her_. But I digress. "Well, for one, I didn't talk nearly as much… Although that's really more a change that being around you has brought." I tilt my head at her meaningfully, and she smirks. I continue, my smile amused, "I was a lot more… passionate, I guess you could say."

"Passionate? You?"

"You seem surprised." My smirk is inevitable. I don't know why, but I feel a bit smug at confessing to be a man of passion.

"Well, duh, of course I'm bloody surprised. No offense, Brainy, but for the duration of our acquaintance you have been rather… Oh, how should I put this?" She looks away, gnawing at her lip in thought.

"Dull?" I offer flatly.

"W-Well, no, not dull…" Her cheeks suddenly look a bit brighter in the moonlight, I note for a split-second before she continues, "Just a bit… Oh, for Pete's sake, Brainy, _you're not dull_. That's not what I'm trying to say. But the idea of you being passionate seems a bit far-fetched as well. You're just… You. Normal." She shrugs weakly, before blinking suddenly, looking down at my hands still on her shoulders. "Um, Brainy, you do know you can let go now? I'm fine."

Oh. Right. I let go immediately, putting my hands back at my sides on the stoop. "Sorry. But it's true. I was… _really_ passionate." I look away, feeling weird about explaining this out loud.

"Passionately in love…" I suddenly hear her mutter out.

My eyes snap to her and I know I must look unsure, because that's how I feel. I should have known she'd connect the dots like this, she always does, but still… it feels weird hearing her say it. She looks awed at the realization, and confused. Understandably so. I get ready to explain everything—

"It's to Helga, isn't it? You're crazy in love with Helga? I've noticed you staring at her, not to mention you had a picture of her in your room. And—oh my days! Your tendency to lag at the back of the room, the standing around in alleys, the hiding behind corners—you _stalked_ her didn't you? You truly are a creepy buzzard! And you said it was for a long time! _How long_? YEARS? Brainy!" Suddenly she has a hold of my shoulders and my eyes widen behind my glasses, my head spinning. "_What have you been keeping from me_?" She looks downright scandalized.

"Uh… what?" is all I can manage. How in the… and she… but why…

She shakes my shoulders slightly before letting go and standing up on the stoop, throwing her hands up. "I can't believe you! All this time we've been seeing each other and you didn't bother to mention you have feelings for _another girl_?" She scowls down at me, and my hand shoots to my glasses reflexively, ready for her worst.

"A-Astrid, I, uh, I really don't…" I tremble slightly, before removing my hand from my face after concluding she won't hurt me. This isn't Helga. This is Astrid. Good, old, nice, nonviolent Astrid. A breath of slight relief escaping me unbidden, I mutter, "I'm sorry, I didn't think it was relevant."

"_Not relevant_?" she yells, and I flinch. "_How could you not think it was bloody well freaking relevant_? You don't just… _not tell_ people these things!"

"Well, I didn't hide it from you either!" I argue, sitting up straighter to try and make it seem less like she's towering over me, with her sharp eyes slashing me like a sword, cutting deep with their cold icy blue flames. "I didn't try to hide my old picture of her, you just didn't ask! And besides, I'm not in love with her… anymore…" I trail off weakly with a wheeze, all the yelling getting to me. I keep my voice quiet now, raspy and deep, my hand instinctively reaching for my inhaler. "I told you, I've had to change a lot in the last couple years. I _helped_ Helga and Arnold get together. I have no regrets." I take a long swig of my inhaler, my pupils dilating a little at the relief.

Her reply is fast, though, "Oh, _please_! I saw you making puppy dog eyes at her and Arnold from across the room! And if you were _truly_ over her, you wouldn't have had a picture of her _in your room_! I found it odd at the time, but I didn't think to question it. I didn't think it meant you were _head over heels_ for her!"

"I am not," I rasp, my heart racing with nerves.

"Oh, yes you are! This explains so much! Like when we ran into Helga and Arnold at Slausens that one time, and suddenly you 'didn't feel like ice cream'? Oh, and when I asked you if you could go into Green Meats for me to pick up some ham for my mum and you ran into Arnold in there, and then when you came back out you were quiet for the whole walk back to my house! Then back in there I came over to you sulking in the shadows to try to make conversation, and you – ONCE AGAIN – didn't want to talk! You're _jealous_, aren't you? You can't stand the sight of those two together!"

"It's not like that," I wheeze defensively, before going into a sudden coughing fit. The air's suddenly really thick.

Her eyes suddenly melting in concern, she kneels beside me and pats my back. She grabs the inhaler from my hand and pops it in my mouth, silencing my coughs. I grab the inhaler with both hands and puff the medicine into my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut. Too much excitement. I want to tell her to calm down, I want to explain, but my emotions keep getting the best of me. She won't stop yelling all these things out, realizing things, and it's driving me crazy because… it's partly true. Not completely, but she's right. Lately, Helga and Arnold being together _has_ bugged me more than usual. And… maybe I did keep one picture of her, yeah, but I threw it away… last week… into my closet, but really, it isn't as extreme as she's trying to make it out to be.

I didn't tell Astrid, but the evening we met, I'd been coming back from Arnold's house. I was spying on his and Helga's date. Nothing creepy, of course, it wasn't like back when I'd spy on Helga in allies and dreamily eavesdrop in on her poetry. It was just a routine I'd found myself in. Every few months, I would follow them on one of their dates, just to make sure everything was still in order: they were still in love, they were still happy, _Helga_ was still happy… Sometimes I'd do it when they got into fights in school, just to make sure they made up. I'd always leave right around the time they decided it was time to make out. I wouldn't stick around just to watch _that_. That really _would_ be weird, and I've been long over anything that creepy. But that evening, I was caught. That hadn't happened in a long time, and Arnold had had to hold Helga back from clobbering me. I don't blame her for assuming the worst, but I only meant well. She'd yelled at me and told me I needed to get over her, told me she appreciated my helping her back in the jungle two years ago but it was getting ridiculous. I was cut off from following her anymore then, and Arnold had kindly explained I really should try to move on. It was truly the end of everything that night. No more stalking. Period. I had to forget her.

That was when I ran into Astrid.

I hadn't thought that night I met her three months later I'd be getting yelled at for not telling her I _used_ to be in love. What did it matter? What did any of it matter? So maybe I was still having a little trouble letting go. I was in love with her for _seven years._ I _liked_ being in love with her. It gave me something to do. The last two years had been so _boring_. No more passion, no more poetry, no more getting my teeth knocked out and my glasses smashed and my nose bloodied. No more furious anger and vibrant pink and golden blonde pigtailed hair that bounces whilst she steps and deep, sarcastic blue eyes emitting the very fiery temptation of—AGH, I'm doing it again.

It's a habit. I honestly can't help it sometimes. Already my hands are itching for a piece of paper to write all this down on.

Suddenly a soft voice breaks me from my thoughts and my silver eyes pop open. "Brainiac…? I'm sorry… I suppose I did go a little barmy there… I'll shut up. You're right, it's… it's none of my business." I shift my eyes over to look at her and see she's looking very guilty. "I wasn't thinking, and I ended up nearly suffocating you without even trying. Are you all right?"

The inhaler still held to my face, I just nod. Now _I_ feel guilty. She's sitting next to me full of concern and worrying about me and I'm thinking about… _poetry_.

She speaks again then, sitting back down next to me, "I was just… caught off guard, I suppose. I'd suspected it already, I don't know why I overreacted like that." I give her an apologetic look and she shakes her head at me instantly, patting me on the back. "Now, now, Brainy, no need to be guilty. _I'm_ the one who did wrong here. So you didn't tell me? You're telling me now." She smiles a sweet smile and I can't help but return it, my pulse lessening further. I put my inhaler away and gulp in a big breath of air, my hands on my knees, before I reply.

"Yes, well…" I wheeze slightly, my smile a tad sheepish. In what I know must seem as a pretty sudden change my face grows a tad firmer and I look at her. "No, you're wrong. I'm not in love with her anymore. Really. It's been years since they got together, I've had plenty of time to get over it—"

"You never really _get over_ things like that, Brainy. When you love someone, you love someone. It doesn't just stop," Astrid reprimands me. "With time you can change yourself and how you deal with things and function, but you can never change your heart. Love is timeless. It doesn't bow to a clock."

There are several seconds of silence between us.

"Wow… That was almost… poetic," I sputter out in an almost-cough, staring at her.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'deep,'" she teases me. Her face suddenly becomes firm then, her cold eyes serious. "How long have you been telling yourself you're over her and fine?"

There are several more seconds of silence between us then.

Next thing I know, my glasses are completely fogged over with tears and I feel a large choking wheeze escape me. I swallow hard then, though, and my eyes widen, horrified. That was more emotion than I've ever wanted to show to anyone that isn't a notepad and pen.

Next thing I know, two long arms are around me and pulling me close, and a mass of brown curls is by my nose. I feel myself relax as she says in a clear, concerned voice, "Honestly, Brainy, it's not healthy. What you're doing. You can't go on pushing emotions like that down. If you're jealous, you're jealous. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But I'm not," I try to explain to her, "I have never been jealous of Arnold. If anything, I've thought he was exceptionally dense and idiotic, but I've never bared any ill will towards him… Why, the very reason I hold those opinions of him are because he took so long to realize he loves Helga too. I was _relieved_ when he finally did. Not jealous. But…" my eyes shift down to the cement of the steps, and I watch absently as a small lady bug slowly treks across, "it has bothered me lately… I don't know why, though. I was fine before. I don't know what's been up with me."

Astrid pulls back from the hug and scoots away a fair distance. I shiver a little. I'd almost forgotten how cold it is out here. She tilts her head at me, her eyes soft and concerned. I just stare at her. It's funny, the first time I met her, I hadn't even noticed her eyes. It was too dark, I suppose. But once I saw her in the daytime and how sharp and cold her eyes seemed… It was odd. They're such a light, crystally color, cold and constantly calculating. Now they're starting to remind me of the sky, though. During the summer. Warm and bright, not a cloud in the sky…

I snap out of it when she blinks, rubbing the back of her neck with a confused look on her face. "Well, that is a bit odd. Perhaps you're just having some sort of relapse. I can't say for sure, my knowledge on 'love' really isn't all that extensive." She laughs, before smiling at me. "You'd know more about that than I."

I just blink at her.

"Oh, now don't give me that look, Brainy." She frowns at me. "Believe me, I wish I could help you more, but I've never been in love before. Ask me again in twenty years. I'm sure by that point I'll have a better understanding of such frivolous matters." She rolls her eyes at me and pats me on the cheek before standing up, dusting herself off. "But just because you're having a bit of love trouble doesn't mean you can't still have fun. The party's only just started, after all." She grins at me and offers her hand to help me up.

I take it and pull myself up, raising an eyebrow at her, smirking. "Are you sure? You think you can handle it? After that little stunt you pulled inside, I wouldn't want you slipping on any randomly placed potato chips or running into walls or—"

"Oh, belt up," she yells with a laugh, already starting to anxiously pull me up the stairs. "How is it when I want to talk to you I can't ever get you to make a peep, but when I don't you never shut up?"

I just shrug, a slowly forming grin pulling at the corners of my lips. "I guess I'm just a rebel like that."

She snorts at me and her eyes go full circle, her free hand going to rest on the doorknob and preparing to open it. "Brainy Williams? The rebel? I'm sorry, but I just can't see it." She shakes her head at me jokingly before opening up the door and stepping excitedly inside, pulling a stumbling me along with her. With how happy and anxious she seems now, you would never have known minutes before she'd been highly embarrassed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Watching**

* * *

As she begins physically pulling me into the living room, I suddenly feel a large knot forming in my throat. I just realized. She's probably got it in her head that I'm going to be dancing around and mingling with people or whatever else such nonsense. Of course I have no problem with parties or dancing, but usually _I'm_ the one making the music or I'm wiggling my fingers at the back of the room by myself. Not actually seriously participating.

This girl is going to be the death of me.

As I feared, the next thing I know she's dragged me out into the middle of the dance floor, and she's grinning at me expectantly.

Trembling slightly, my hand twitches for my inhaler, and I try to find my voice over the music. "A-Astrid, I'm really not much of a—"

"Oh, Brainiac, loosen up! You don't have to be good at it, just have fun!" She looks about to start dancing right here and now, but suddenly the song stops altogether. Astrid stops too and blinks, looking over to see Curly twirling the CD on his finger and grinning mischievously at everyone. Astrid looks at me and grabs my arm to pull me closer to her as soon as she sees this, whispering, "You _planned_ this didn't you?" I can tell by her tone she's only joking, but I can't deny that I am relieved. My relief only lasts a second, though, because, judging by Curly's expression, I know this isn't going to end very well.

Curly interrupts me before I can even think to respond to her, throwing the CD out of the room like a frisbee. A crash sounds but no one acknowledges it. "All right, folks, that's enough of all that! Enough cat and mouse, let's get to the real stuff!" He pops in a fresh CD and pulls Rhonda into his arms before dipping her back dramatically, as a slow song comes on. "Let's cut a rug, baby!" She just rolls her eyes at him and smiles, as the lights in the room dim a bit.

My eyes widen as I start to look around, and already everybody's paired up and pulled close to each other. I really shouldn't be surprised. This has happened for every party so far, but it hits me harder tonight.

My eyes come to Arnold and Helga instantly to see Arnold pulling Helga close. I suppose I've subconsciously been keeping tabs on their whereabouts in the room. I didn't even have to search to find them. To my horrific discomfort, Helga's eyes connect with mine not moments later. Has she been keeping tabs on me as well?

She looks surprised to see I'm looking back at her, and less than pleased. I offer a wheezy smile in her direction and she directs her eyes in a different direction a few times while still maintaining eye contact with me. I look where her eyes are pointing me and see Astrid still standing next to me, looking lost. I hadn't realized until now just how awkward this is. Astrid and I have been friends for a while now, and this situation is really inappropriate of Fate.

Looking back at Helga with what I'm sure is a baffled and embarrassed expression, I see she's giving me a very pointed look… Oh, no, she can't possibly be thinking what I think she's thinking. Arnold seems confused at what Helga's looking at and turns to see me, then his eyes turn to Astrid for a second, then back to me, before he raises an eyebrow. Oh, fantastic, yes, let's get the dense one in on Helga's embarrassing little 'matchmaking' game, shall we?

I give them a reproachful look and shake my head, before turning back to see Astrid staring at me oddly. Oh, I hope she's not too uncomfortable with all this. We were just talking about the possibility of me still being in love with Helga, someone Astrid happens to be friends with, along with Arnold. That alone was awkward at best, but now this?

Staring at her now, though, with her lost expression and twitching mouth, I feel myself soften a bit. After all, she _did_ want me to dance… 'Loosen up,' as she put it. Well, you know what? I'll do just that.

Smiling, I step a bit closer to her and offer my hand silently.

She looks down at my hand for a long time, before looking back up into my eyes. I find myself having to hold back a wheeze. I don't want to spoil the mood, but I've never seen her eyes this close up before. They really are like a crisp summer day, clear and thoughtful and concise. Maybe she's not the only one that can read me. Just looking at her like this, I can't help but feel like I know her inside and out. That's a ridiculous statement to make, considering the brief time we've known each other, but I can't help but feel it. For someone with such icy eyes, she sure knows how to make someone feel warm…

I'm startled out of my reverie when she takes my hand silently in hers and pulls me closer to her. My heart races and I wheeze out quick without meaning to. Just when I'm preparing to put my arm around her, she whispers, her face close to mine, "Now, I don't know about you, Brainy, but this is certainly not my cup of tea. That barmy hooligan must be out of his bloody mind if he thinks I'm going to participate in this nonsense. Let's sit this one out, go do some of that creepy 'standing at the back of the room' stuff you like to do." She blinks at me a couple times, completely innocent.

Hearing all that, and realizing where my thoughts had been heading, I wince a bit. I feel like a fool now. Of course she wouldn't be interested. Little does she know, she's holding the hand of the _real_ 'barmy' one in the room. I really shouldn't have let Helga get into my head that easily.

I don't feel like doing anything but running away and hiding, but if I did that she'd want to know why, and she'd find out undoubtedly, and then things would be even MORE awkward… I don't want that. I know we're friends. I'm under no illusion that we're anything beyond that. I just lost my head for a second. That's all.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and just like that she's dragging me as inconspicuously as someone like Astrid can out of the room. I glance back at Helga and Arnold as she's doing so, and find them giving me two big thumbs ups…

Oh, lovely. Just lovely.

Once we're out of the room, Astrid lets out a refreshed sigh and turns back to me, grinning. "Can you believe all that? I can't get over it. Slow dancing? Twelve-year-olds, _slow dancing_?" She laughs a bit too loudly and I quickly put a hand over her mouth, silencing her.

"We're just outside the room, Astrid. People can still hear us," I admonish her, before letting go of her mouth as she blushes sheepishly. "You're way too loud," I say with a small sigh.

"Yeah, well, you're way too quiet," she whispers with an eye roll before pulling us into the hallway and onto the stairs, a good distance from the living room. She sits down and I join her.

"I don't think slow dancing's bad," I wheeze slightly, before rubbing the side of my face to clear an itch.

"Says the bloke who was just looking at me like I asked him to perform open heart surgery when I asked him to dance," she mutters sarcastically, giving me a look.

I have to hold back a snort at that. "It's too out in the open, Astrid. At least with slow dancing nobody's—"

"Looking around at you? Really, Brainy? Why are you so anti-social?"

"I'm not anti-social, I'll have you know—"

"Yes, yes, I know you're friends with everyone and you always go to these parties and whatnot, but you only do it to stare at everyone and you hardly EVER talk."

"But—"

"Oh, don't give me that old argument, nobody talks to you because nobody knows you have a PERSONALITY. And whose fault is that?"

"All right, yeah, but—"

"I know, I know, you don't talk to people because they don't talk to you, but they don't talk to you because you don't give out that 'talk to me' vibe, but you do that on PURPOSE because you're anti-social, as I stated, and you actually had the nerve to deny. Comical, really." She cocks an eyebrow at me, a smile pulling at her lips. "It's like some messed up paradox, isn't it?"

I just stare at her for a few seconds, though, before asking incredulously, "How do you _do_ that?"

"Do what?"

"Know exactly what I'm going to say?"

She rolls her eyes at me then. "Well, you _are_ rather obvious with your thoughts, Brainy."

I just blink at her, blank-faced.

"See what I mean? Of course I'll go snatch up the snack tray. If you were so hungry you should have just asked." She stands up.

My jaw drops as she does so and I ask in astonishment, "You knew that just from me blinking?"

"Actually, no, I knew that because your stomach just growled." As if on cue my stomach growls again, and she laughs, patting me on the head jokingly. "You may want to rid of that lion in your stomach, Brain. He sounds a tad cranky." She walks eagerly out of the room after that, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I cross my arms over my chest, throwing my eyes to the floor.

'_Anti-social'_… Nonsense. I have no trouble talking to people at all, if the situation calls for it. I'm just more of a thinker than a talker. I prefer silent contemplation and watching than actual physical participation. Plus there are my asthma problems, which I must always take into consideration. I like it that way, I've been content for the entirety of my life being the quiet, wheezing kid hiding in darkened corners. But I have friends that I do things with sometimes and places I go and sports I play—I'm nowhere near anti-social. I just seem that way next to Astrid because she _loves_ talking to people and making her presence known. She's the 'main-character' type of person without even making a conscious effort, and I'm… not.

I blend into the background, and I like to keep it that way. The irony is that by being quiet and not drawing attention to myself, I'm possibly the most social kid in this entire house. I know everything that goes on between everyone.

Ever since Astrid and I grew close to each other, though, things have changed… but only a little. Astrid seems to respect my like of silence and solitude, but she unintentionally pulls me into her own zone a lot. Especially lately, she's been pulling me into conversations with people and eating lunch and she just tried to make me _dance_. I understand that we're friends and as such she wants to do things with me, but all of this talking and random activity has been upsetting my usual routine.

At the same time, though, I'm actually really… flattered by how she's wanted to hang around with me so much. No one's ever shown a real interest in being my friend before. I guess it's just because she was new in town. She didn't grow up thinking I was a complete nerd… But then again, with the glasses, pale face, and wheezing, you'd have thought she'd gather that just by looking at me. But she never looked at me any different than she would anyone else. It was like she didn't just not care, she didn't even notice.

I suppose it's kind of nice to be… noticed. Not noticed like Helga punching me in the face, but just acknowledged as a human being. Really nice, actually…

Deep down—though I will never admit this out loud and don't you dare repeat it—I have actually always wondered… what it might be like to be the knight in shining armor… A "Golden Hero," if you will. A charmer with a tongue more sleekly, purely silver and sharp than the finest of cutlery. And Helga… I fell for her because she was larger than life. I find that inexplicably attractive in a person, and in a way, I kind of wish I could be that larger than life person myself. I suppose deep down I do kind of wish… I could be more open with people. My wheezing problem has always held me back in life. When I was younger, it bothered me a bit, but the older I got I suppose I just… got used to not speaking. I grew fond of it. Besides, I tried being that "hero" once. I stepped out of my comfort zone and took a chance, and… I ended up with my heart crushed and emailing my _cousin_. Here I thought I'd made a new friend, and it turned out we were related. Apparently she'd started going by her middle name when she hit second grade and switched to PS118 some months back and had neglected to tell me. But there was no mistaking my name… It is rather distinctive, and I don't _have_ a middle name. Of course she recognized it when I responded to her email. How pathetic… All that and I just ended up exactly where I started: nowhere. And come to find out my own blood hadn't even cared enough to inform me we'd become schoolmates. Does _anyone_ care? Even a little? I know I'm not the golden boy of the group and I never will be, but aren't I human? If you prick me, do I not bleed? If you tickle me, do I not laugh? If you take away my inhaler, do I not _wheeze_?

…Well, there's about ten years worth of therapy. Where did that come from? Shaking my head, I try to rid myself of the suddenly bleak feeling resting deep in the pit of my stomach. I never give in to those bouts of depressing emotion, why have I suddenly started now? I was over Helga, I was content, I was moving on, I was… bored. But happy, nonetheless, right? And now suddenly I'm questioning everything in my life, everything I ever was and stood for. _Silence_. My normally perfectly organized and quiet tome of a mind now feels littered with disturbances and queries and memories… Oh, the _memories_. Bursting from every cabinet, every corridor, every cranny of my mind, things I'd thought I'd forgotten suddenly coming to the very forefront of my brain and torturing me. Where is the sense I've come to know and love? The logic? The _control_? I don't like chaos… It can lead so easily to misery.

If there is _one thing_ watching all my fellow students has taught me… it is _that_. Without control, there is misery.

Astrid is not control. She is everything that chaos _is_ and ever _was_. If you look up the word chaos in the dictionary, there is a high-definition, candid, glossy shot of Astrid with an overly happy_, _deceivingly sweet grin. Miserable.

But… she hasn't brought me misery. She has unsettled me, baffled me, and surprised me, but not made me miserable… The balance in my life has been tilted every which way, but I'm not disheartened by it. I'm just… unsure of where to go from here. I was just so used to how my life was before, that in these short two years and all the changes they've brought, I'm just… confused. My love for Helga can no longer be a reality; I can no longer stalk, write, or long. I'm just… cut off. I knew this would happen, and yet now that it has, I find myself unnerved. I hadn't ever thought of where I'd go with my life after my obsession with Helga came to an end. I just figured I'd move on, but _how_ exactly I would do so I'd never thought of. And Astrid was a complete surprise.

I'm not good with receiving surprises; I'm only good at giving them… and then getting punched in the face. My nose is incredibly strong now, the bone is near impenetrable after years of it getting smashed. But on the inside, I'm easily squashed.

I just don't know how to handle my life changing so dramatically so fast. I'd thought I'd have time to leisurely inch my way up in life until I was completely on my feet and ready to face life as Brainy Williams. _Just_ Brainy Williams. Not Brainy the Stalker, or Brainy the Geek, or Brainy the Weirdo, but just… Brainy Williams. My own person with my own dreams that have _nothing_ to do with Helga. But at twelve, I'm still… Oh, I'm just lost. I guess I have been for a while. I mean, really, what am I doing with my life? Do I even _have_ real dreams or aspirations? I don't even know myself.

I stare down at the plush carpeting of the mansion, my back hunched over and my head bowed low. This 'moving on' stuff is a lot harder than I thought.

Astrid walks back in randomly and sits down beside me, making my head pop back up. She's got an exaggerated grin spread across her face and her teeth all lined up in two white, perfect rows, like little soldiers ready for war. Someone's a tad too happy.

"What happened?" I ask, perhaps a hint or ton of dryness in my tone.

She giggles and stuffs something suddenly in my mouth, much to my surprise. "Ohhh… shut up, silly. Nothing of relevance. Now enjoy your blanket wrapped pig or whatever."

Chewing and swallowing, I look over at her with slightly widened eyes. "You didn't poison me just now did you?"

She slaps me on the arm and rolls her eyes. "Oh, come now. Poisoning you here in the middle of a hallway with a party raging in the other room? That wouldn't be at all practical."

I smirk. "Well, it's good to know you've given this thought. How comforting."

"How many times do I have to say shut up before you'll actually listen, Brainiac?" She sighs, sounding almost tired, and rests her head on my shoulder. I stiffen. She must not have noticed because she doesn't do anything. I don't know what she's trying to accomplish, but the back of my neck feels suspiciously warm. "Oh, Brainy, would you think me odd if I said I envy you a little?"

I blink at that, shocked.

"You know, just how you've got things set up for yourself here. Maybe that's why I keep bothering you about why you're so anti-social. I just don't understand. And before you say you aren't again, you _are_. You're a regular Nobby No-Mates. But I don't consider that a bad thing, truthfully. You've conquered loneliness… How do you do it?" She lifts her head back up and looks at me intently.

_How do I do it_? She… She envies the fact that I'm alone? _Her_? That's nothing to envy. "Astrid, I'm afraid I don't follow." I raise a slight eyebrow at her.

She just shrugs at me in response, before saying after a short pause, "Well, I just mean that you genuinely seem _fine_ with solitude. You do barely anything all day, you take aimless walks, you only ever talk to _me_, and yet you seem perfectly content. Don't you ever get bored?"

I stare at her. Oh, if only she was in my head a few minutes ago. She'd know just how uncertain I was of my life. How do I explain this? "Uh…" Yes… that's intelligent. About sums it up. Sighing, I respond, "Well… yeah, actually. I do get bored, or, lately I have anyway. But I'm just used to it, it's how I've always been. It's not much of an answer, but I don't know what else to say… I never would have expected you to say you envy me for any of that. Are you okay?" I give her a concerned look.

She just looks down. "Yes, I'm fine. No need to fuss, I was just… wondering." She shrugs lightly.

It's silent for a little while, before my deep voice cuts through the silence, "You know, Astrid, for someone who's never been in love, you give fantastic advice on it." I look up at her and smile. "I don't think I thanked you for that."

She smiles shortly and waves me off. "Bah, it was nothing."

It's silent again for a little while.

I notice she's holding a small silver dish of hors d'oeuvres in her lap then and reach over to take another one, stuffing it in my mouth. I hear a chuckle then and, with my finger still at my mouth pushing in the food, I look over to Astrid. My mouth still slightly full but the food pushed over to the other side of my mouth, I ask, "Uh, what?"

She rolls her eyes to the other side away from me, a small smile still on her face that she's pretending to try to hide. "Oh, nothing, Piglet."

Chewing a little, I respond drolly, "You do realize there are many terrible things I could do to you right now, right?" You don't spend seven years worshipping the Queen of Evil without picking up a few things.

But she just laughs at my threat, and replies, "Oh, please! What are you going to do to me? Stalk me to death? Yes, I think I'm really quite scared now. Whatever shall I do?" Her grin is atrociously large.

I stare at her again, eyes wide and chewing stalled. "Uh…" Oh, and I was doing so good too. I don't know how to respond to her calling me a stalker. I'd nearly forgotten she'd said that before. I'd thought it was just something she'd spat out in a fit of near-hysteria, but she really thinks me a stalker? Seriously? I mean, I am. But I didn't think she actually believed that. My face flushes and I continue my chewing, more slowly now, my eyes shifted to the other side of the room.

Luckily I'm saved from her connecting any dots or trying to apologize or anything else equally awkward when a bang just outside the hallway startles us. Standing up slowly, I take silent steps around the corner to see what's going on. That's when I see them, locked at the lips, the smaller of which smashed up against the wall and a curtain saving their innocence. A harsh wheeze instantly barrels out of my mouth and I gulp, setting a weak smile on my face to hopefully lessen the blow when they see I'm here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Watching**

* * *

In an instant, the kissing is over, as if it were all just some sick hallucination, and I'm face-to-face with pale skin and wide blue eyes. Her face is blank, and Arnold's out of commission, so he just stands leaning against the wall. I keep my face set in a nervous smile. The last time I'd been caught in a situation like this, it had led to me getting my head smashed against a fire escape landing and being banished from ever going within five feet of her again. Now, I'm prepared for the worst.

Helga's eyes leave mine for a moment to look at something behind me, though, and suddenly her face lights up with friendliness, much to my shock. She whispers with a light tease in her voice, "Get your own curtain, we're using this one."

Wait, what? I turn around slightly to see what she was looking at and see Astrid standing startlingly close behind me. I hadn't seen her follow me. She looks embarrassed, and I can understand. She's probably never seen a full-fledge, Arnold/Helga mauling before. They can make even the most obsessive of romance novel ephishianados blush, and Astrid's never struck me for the romantic type. I'm almost surprised she's still here and not lying on the floor in shock.

Astrid responds to Helga before I'm able to process what it is she even means, "I told you it is _not_ like that." Whatever Helga just implied, Astrid seems to really resent it, based on the look on her face.

Helga snorts, seeming to hold back a laugh. "Whatever you say, toots. Deny it all you want."

"Helga, I really think you need to stop reading so much into things. It's not like what we have is unusual."

"No, but it is doomed to fail. Sheena and Eugene tried the same thing, and look where they ended up. Walking hand in cast."

"This is much different, Helga. I can honestly guarantee that."

Arnold cuts in now, raising a finger in the air to help emphasize his point, "Um, I think that you can argue about this any time, but right now there are more important things we could all be doing." He eyes Helga with a meaningful look.

Helga grins, looking ready to agree wholeheartedly when it finally clicks in my head. "Wait a minute, are you accusing us of… of…" My lips flap in protest, but no words come out. The shock is stifling. They think Astrid and I have been… back here… and like _that_? Oh, good gravy and mashed potatoes.

All right, I take it back. I'm the sanest person in this entire house. Only basketcase here is standing right in front of me… and twirling Rhonda around not too far away. Now that I think about it. Wow. I never thought my mind would ever have the pleasure to come to such a conclusion.

Helga gives me a strange look for a few seconds before a smirk spreads purposely across her face. Her amusement is obvious. "Criminy, Brainy, you're almost as bad as the Football Head used to be."

I blink at her, my eyelids somehow managing to close for a fraction of a second over my dinner-plate wide sized eyes, and my jaw comes slightly unhinged. I feel as if the old, mythical god of war just struck me over the head with a fifty-ton hammer. An over-exaggeration at best perhaps, but not by much. She essentially just called me a clueless buffoon, after all. Now I may be a lot of things, but I am _hardly_ clueless. Granted that is a common misconception made about me, but Helga knows me, does she not? I am anything but clueless to what Astrid and I's relationship is. The boundary line was drawn without us even having to discuss it. If that's not platonic, I don't know what is. She is truly beginning to test my patience with her meddling. My friendship with Astrid is still new and I would like the chance to enjoy and explore it without having people barging in and just assuming because she is female and I am male that we will inevitably end up in some sort of romantic entanglement. Helga is the dense one here. Not me. Not me at all. No.

As I feel the frustration welling up inside me and I'm sure beginning to show on my face, I open my mouth to correct her.

Astrid speaks suddenly from behind me, though, with a speed and sharpness that makes me surprised a few hairs haven't fallen from the side of my head where her mouth is, "Helga, really, this is ridiculous. Now while I am sure you have only the best of intentions, I must say for the final time that my relationship with Brainy is strictly that of fond companionship. If you intend on maintaining our own involvement, I suggest you put such dim-witted delusions out of your head! Or at the very least, mind your own bloody business! As it would appear you have quite a bit of it to mind!" Throwing her eyes pointedly in Arnold's direction with her cold blues, she then grabs my arm and pulls me out of the hall.

My head spinning and my stomach feeling acutely like I've just stepped off a roller coaster, I grab hold of the far wall by me to steady myself. She lets go of my arm as soon as I do and sighs, her arms crossing over her chest. As we are back out in the main room it is much darker now, and her face is turned away from me, ruining any hope I have of seeing her expression. Intrigue gripping me, I touch her shoulder. Her response is to immediately turn to me, and I see the worriment coupled with residual frustration still etched on her features.

"That," I say, "was amazing. Incredibly unwise, but amazing."

She frowns at me, shifting onto her other foot as she glances away uncomfortably. "I suppose I was a bit too brash, wasn't I?"

Mirroring her look, I take a step around so she is forced to face me. "A bit, but it had to be said. I would have said the same. In fact, if you hadn't stepped in, I was going to." I smile.

She looks at me suddenly in alarm. "Oh, my, I interrupted you from finally getting to assert yourself to Helga?" Wilting, she says, "Well, now I feel even worse."

Raising a slight eyebrow, I reply, "I can't imagine why. It wasn't important to me or anything."

"Perhaps it doesn't seem like it now that the moment has passed, but that would have been quite a moment for you, wouldn't it?" she asks, raising her own eyebrow back with inquiring, guilty eyes. "After caring for her for so long with no response in return, it would have been nice for you to put your foot down to her for once." She averts her crystalline eyes down, rubbing her arm. "But I just had to open my big mouth and ruin that as well, didn't I?"

With growing concern, I shake my head at her and attempt another smile. "Honestly, Astrid, it doesn't matter to me. But don't be afraid. Helga has always been very easily angered, but—"

"Oh, I'm not afraid at all," Astrid corrects me, raising an eyebrow. "It's not as if Helga will hurt me. But I simply couldn't stand another moment of her being so bloody cheeky." Frustration apparently renewed, she huffs and looks away again.

I purse my lips tightly, dread filling me as I ask, "This isn't the first time she's confronted you?"

Astrid moves suddenly, leaning over to rest her hand on the curtain besides us as she bumbles out in exasperation in a slightly higher pitch of tone, "OH, no, she confronted me on the nonsense just as I came out here to get some snacks. That's why I took so bloody long. Or rather, it also took quite some time because I was trying to find something that wasn't meat or ridden with a meaty-stench and was having a _delightful_ time in attempting such an apparent _feat_," her tone drips with sarcasm as she says this. "It just amazes me how someone as bent out of shape about keeping up appearances can host a party without a single vegetarian dish—I mean, some veggie dip, crackers, crisps, anything would do—I'm not the picky sort at all, I'd like to _think_, but there I was just fingering through a bunch of dead animal meat trying for the life of me to find something I could cram down my cake hole and unable to find a bloody thing—"

"Astrid," I drone out loudly, grabbing her by the shoulders, "you're rambling again. Please at least stay on point."

Her eyes wide and blinking rapidly at me, they then dart from side to side to the hands on her shoulders before she closes them and takes a good breath. "_Right_. Apologies." Opening her eyes again, her smile is sheepish, and even in the dim light I can tell there's a faint blush present on her cheeks. "But yes, she may have already brought the idea up once or twice." She twitches then and shrugs my hands off her shoulders. She doesn't have to, though, because my hands were already flinching away from her.

Licking my dry lips, I give her a wheezy smile. "Did that have anything to do with why you said you envy me?"

She smiles ruefully at me this time, some amusement dancing in her eyes. "I was hoping I could abandon civilization all together and go live on an island."

It's beyond my control. The laughter that bursts from my mouth is unbidden, but it simply has to come out. It is loud, though, and brings an unfortunate amount of attention to me, considering it was completely out of the blue. But despite the discomfort only beginning to settle on top of me, I still can't resist the bubbling urge to laugh.

But a few seconds after my loss of sanity, Astrid joins in, her jovial, happy chuckles and giggles sounding even louder than my own. She notices the attention just as I do once more and throws her arm around my shoulder, grinning. "Oi, shut your mouths! You never seen two chums having a good laugh?"

"Yeah, have you all gone _barmy_?" I yell out right after with a laugh, caught up in the moment.

I freeze the next second, though, my eyes shooting wide open and my laughter immediately ceasing.

Astrid's doesn't end for a good few seconds more until she realizes I've stopped. Once she does, though, she looks over at my curiously. I'm only half aware of her attention, though. My world's a haze of shock and uncertainty, and my eyes are focused on some random wall across the room. I don't see it, though. I'm only vaguely aware of everyone going back to their dancing and chatting, and Astrid's tugging on my shoulder is but a numb tickle on my sleeve. Because… I just _spoke_.

I've been speaking all evening, but only to close friends and in quiet corners and hallways. Never out loud, never in a yell, never so blatantly _public_. If it weren't so dark in here, I'm sure people would have been shocked to notice it was me. But of course they assumed it wasn't. After all, the quiet shadow lurker just burst into hysterical laughter then cracked a _joke_. In the words of one so eloquently soft-spoken, what in the heck came over me?

I've laughed many times before in front of people. Granted, often in harmony with everybody else, but it was there. But just now, it was so… impulsive, carefree. When did I suddenly become the type of person to produce sudden bouts of laughter from thin air and yell out across an entire room? I've never once done such a thing in my entire life. Never.

The laughter was greatly needed, though. The tension was becoming unbearable. I curse Helga for doing that to us. I suppose rather shocking things can often happen in the heat of the moment. Perhaps it's not worth the fuss, but it just felt so unnatural. Strange, but yet… _good_. I'd never much considered myself one for joking, but with Astrid around they've kind of just… fallen out. But only ever in her company, alone. Not even around Helga was I ever so whimsical. But then again, I was in love with her, and that presented a certain amount of nervousness and self-awareness whenever I was in her presence. But this… Is this how it feels to… be comfortable? I mean, to have a friend? A true, real friend? It means yelling out across a crowded room just for the heck of it? It means laughing as loud as you can simply because you can and you want to? I've never felt like this before…

Suddenly, Astrid breaks me of my trance and I realize she's somehow managed to drag me to a lone corner of the room, her hand on my arm. "Brainy, snap out of it already! _'Ello_? Are you alive?" Her hand on my arm tightens then and next thing I know her other hand is on me and she's shaking me. "Brainy, it was nothing! So you got a little caught up in everything? It doesn't matter! Don't slip into a coma on me!"

Shaking all on my own by this point, I stutter out, panicky, "U-Uh, I-I'm fine! I'm fine! Astrid, I—"

Suddenly she stops shaking me and brown curls have once again been shoved into my face as her arms come around me. "Oh, Brainiac, bless you! You're okay. I thought you'd gone round the bend." Her embrace tightens on me and I shut my eyes, my arms tentatively beginning to come around her as well. Once I've managed to twitchingly bring them fully around her, I stay like that a few moments. The scent of her hair hits me uninvited. I always noted she smells like tea and candles, but her hair smells more like mint and rosemary. Must be her shampoo. I've never noticed it before.

I take it all in, trying to ingrain the moment into my memory banks, and hug her tighter. She's my friend. A real friend. My first real friend. It hadn't really occurred to me until just now. I have a _friend_. Someone who takes an interest in me and can stand my company, who doesn't think I'm weird. Who likes me and hangs out with me because of it. It's a concept so… normal. Yet I'd never felt this before. I'd always thought I was a social being and that I had friends, but this all seems so foreign.

She shifts suddenly and pulls back from me, looking at me strangely. She looks somewhat nervous, so I offer a smile. It takes her a few moments, but she returns the smile soon and tilts her head to me slightly. "Everything okay there?"

I just nod with an open-mouthed smile, my wheezing back full force. I'm glad for it, though. It saves me from having to explain myself. I don't want things to get awkward between us again, but I've just found myself so happy she's here.

For once, she stays silent (remarkable), and gives me a simple smile back in response. Not one of her usual excitable grins, but just the simple upward quirking of her lips, her eyes glossed with relaxed certainty.

The nice moment is interrupted when her sharp eyes flick over to the doorway and a look of worry and guilt crosses her face. I turn around just in time to make eye contact with Helga as she marches her way towards us, Arnold at her tail. Worry and panic tightens my muscles and a harsh wheeze barrels out of my throat. This can't be good. I _know_ Helga, and I know this will not end well.

In too short an amount of time, Helga is before us, facing us both. She shifts from foot to foot, not quite making eye contact with us. Her expression is impossible to read. She seems uncertain and embarrassed, antsy, yet simultaneously frustrated and tense. It's an odd combination on her. I find my hands instinctively twitching just in case I have to defend myself, or Astrid.

Arnold comes to stand beside her then, and gives us a distracted smile before looking back to Helga with a meaningful look. She ignores him, so he elbows her in the side, which earns him a pouty glare before she finally turns her head to look at us. Her eyes roll away as she begins speaking, in a begrudging tone of voice, "So, the Football Head here," she ignores the look he gives her as she says this, "just thought I should, _I don't know_, apologize or some crap…" She sighs then, relenting as she says more genuinely, "Look, you were right, okay? You had every right to mouth off to me. Whatever's going on between you and Wheeze Breath is none of my business. I shouldn't have just assumed. I'm…" her eye twitches a few times then, as does her mouth, and for a moment I think she might self destruct, but then she grounds out painfully, "_I'm sorry_."

Arnold nods in pride from next to her, expression pleased, and wraps an arm around her shoulders. "That a girl."

Helga says to him quietly, my super-sonic hearing only just picking up on the light-hearted threat, "You're so paying for this later."

Arnold just rubs her arm affectionately, amused.

While I am standing stalk-straight in shock at this turn of events, Astrid just seems mildly surprised, but pleasantly so. She instantly steps forward, her hands clasped happily in front of her. "Oh, I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that. I almost felt the need to apologize myself."

Helga raises half of her majestic eyebrow at her. "Why?"

"Well, I was feeling rather guilty at how I 'mouthed off,' as you put it." She looks amused, and yet a bit befuddled. "It was a tad rude of me, but I'd just lost my patience. You understand that, I'm sure."

Helga's mouth twitches. "Right."

Astrid beams, and goes forward suddenly to envelope her in a short hug that causes Helga to stiffen. After pulling away, a slight smirk now present on her face, Astrid holds out her hand and asks, "Still friends?"

Helga shocks me again when, instead of putting on some kind of bubbly sarcastic façade in response, she gives a sincere, friendly smile and grabs Astrid's hand, shaking it. Smirking slightly back, she retorts, "Of course, Chocolate Head. Who could stay mad at anyone with such a fancy-schmancy voice?"

Suddenly, an eleven-year-old boy with scruffy black hair flies over to us, his eyes wild. "Did somebody say chocolate?"

Arnold lets go of Helga and looks at Chocolate Boy in alarm. "Jason, what are you doing here? Were you even invited?"

Jason shakes his head back and forth, eyes still wide. "Don't need to be invited. Heard there'd be chocolate. There's chocolate right? I heard there'd be chocolate."

A loud, exasperated groan tumbles out of Arnold's mouth, and he runs a hand over his forehead tiredly. "I thought you were over your chocolate obsession. You were in recovery just last month, _again_. You were doing so well. What happened?"

Jason twitches at the reminder, his large, ironically chocolate brown eyes darting around himself. "N-Nothing. My mom baked a pie full of vegetables again, with broccoli and cabbage and stuff, and I just… needed chocolate." He grabs Arnold by the shoulders suddenly, his shoulders tense and eyes blood-shot. "_I need chocolate_. _Where are they hiding it? Where are they hiding my precious_?" He lets go of him then, almost violently, and slinks his lanky form away from us, ransacking the snack tables and terrorizing the guests.

Helga watches him go off, her expression unimpressed and a hand on her hip. "That is one sad, screwed up little monkey."

Arnold sighs heavily, his frustrations evident. "I'm giving up on him! This is the last time he does this!" He turns around sharply then and storms off, his fists clenched at his sides. "Come on, Helga, we're going home!"

Helga watches him leave with amusement, before turning to Astrid to state cockily, "He'll be back digging the little loser out of a garbage can in less than a week."

Astrid eyes the young, chocolate-abusing boy with uncertain eyes, having very rarely encountered him in such a state. "I should hope so."

Helga turns her head excitedly to see Arnold standing at the doorway waiting for her, tapping his foot testily. She turns back to us then, the grin clear on her fair facial features. "Now not that this wasn't a blast, but I've gotta fly. Whenever Arnold gets angry like this it usually means frustrated making out, and, no offense, but you guys aren't worth missing that for."

Astrid laughs, her arm spontaneously around me as she says, "That's quite all right, Helga, I'm sure we'll find a way to cope. See you tomorrow."

Helga seems to hesitate a second, her bright blue eyes roving over us, before she nods and replies, "Right. See ya." She turns and walks hastily away then to Arnold, only to have him grab her by the arm and pull her out the door, which is shortly followed by the sound of the front door slamming.

I hear Astrid muttering beside me, arm still around my shoulders, "Funny couple indeed. Never fail to invoke a chuckle." She turns to me then. "Don't you agree?"

"Uh… I don't know." I shrug. For once these words hold some truth to them. I find I'm still in a state of disbelief. I can only barely see Astrid looking at me curiously out of the corner of my eye, and it makes me have to look away so I can't. I wish I was alone right now. I was so happy for her mere existence a few minutes ago, but now I don't want to be anywhere near her. I don't want to be in this house, with these people, all so oblivious to me and the feelings swirling around inside of me. But I also don't want to hurt Astrid's feelings. So I just look away, trying to mentally dematerialize her arm on me.

I've known Helga for my entire life, since preschool. I was in love with her since preschool. I stalked her since preschool, every day without fail, no matter where she went, rain or snow. I knew everything about her. I knew her favorite colors, her favorite movie, her favorite music, her favorite foods, her favorite hiding places. I've known her, inside and out, for my entire young life. It was comforting and gratifying to know I could predict her so well. I'd solved her before Arnold even realized there was anything to solve at all. She was unpredictable, and I knew that, but most days I could predict exactly where she'd be, on what roof, with which spy gear she'd ordered out of the back of a comic book. I _knew_ her.

And now I just realized I don't.

Not anymore.

My glasses fog over. I find myself short of breath.

My life with her is slipping right before my eyes. I'd known our stalker/stalkee relationship was over. It was over years ago. But somehow, someway, I didn't think it would actually change anything. We just wouldn't be associating. But she'd stay the same. She'd be the same gruff and tough, secretly sweet girl forever. That wouldn't change.

But it did. Arnold changed her. I knew he was good for her, I knew they were meant to be, but I never thought of the ramifications that might result from that. I never thought the kindness and goodness buried inside her would actually come out in the open. Perhaps it was selfish of me, but I never wanted it to. I wanted it to remain my little secret. Arnold's coming into the picture only meant that now I'd have to share that secret. And I was ready and willing to do that. But now everything is unraveling. _She_ is unraveling, right before my eyes, and I can't do a thing about it. I knew she'd become more open and friendly with people, but I hadn't realized she'd come this far. It usually took three men and a rat to make Helga even consider uttering an apology. But just like everything else concerning her, there is one boy who can make her do just about anything without a moment's thought.

And now that she has him, her bitter shell has crumbled.

The last thing about her I'll ever be able to predict, and it's that I'll never truly know her again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Watching**

* * *

That exact moment of realization, a wheeze falls from my lips. Not a normal, full, overwhelmed wheeze. Not one filled with confusion, terror, pain, or even love. Just a simple, hollow wheeze, filled with nothing but carbon dioxide.

I realize at that moment I'm truly empty. It's not a sad empty, though. I just feel… blank, like a lung just exploded inside of me and was wiped clean. I feel like the book of my life just had every word ever written erased away except for a few lone sentences. It feels… strange.

Finally I feel Astrid withdrawing her arm from around me. It's a motion I only just pick up on. I feel as if I'm underwater, and her words are coming to me as an echo, fogged around the edges in an unclear symphony, "Oh, I'm sorry, I know you're still on edge about those two. Once again, I wasn't thinking… If it helps I imagine 'frustrated making out' isn't at all a healthy activity." Her nervous giggle comes as a low hum in my ear. "As a matter of fact, I don't believe any form of 'making out' at the age of twelve is healthy in any case. When I moved here I had no idea what I was in for, coming to a school full of romantically obsessed children. Why, I barely knew what to think when I first received an invite to an _anniversary_ do. If it weren't for you, I may just go bonkers at these gatherings. The romantic music, heart-shaped ice sculpture, couples at every turn—it's utter madness. But of course, being new to the group, I don't want to appear rude. They were all so kind to me, and I really rather enjoy their company."

She's rambling again, and by this point in her speech I can't help but stare. Under normal circumstances I would give her the heads up by now, but tonight, at this moment, I let her go on. I don't mind it. Truthfully, I find her ramblings rather entertaining on most days. Right now, though, I wouldn't know what to say to stop her anyway. I can't speak. This strange feeling of emptiness is still inside of me, and I need a few moments to let it sink in.

And so, she continues, shifting her tight-clad legs around, distracted, cerulean eyes shifting from the floor to the ceiling, only occasionally flicking back to my face. Her bare arms are pale in the darkened light, her hands folded thoughtlessly behind her back as her amethyst shaded dress swishes two and fro. She is the picture of distraction and impulse, nerves and racing thoughts. "I mean, I never in a million years would have thought at this point in my life I would find myself in a city as small as Hillwood, and in the company of some of the warmest people I've ever met in my life. England is such a beautiful place and the very country I was born, but New York is quite the beauty. Granted Hillwood is such a small part of it and so few people visit, one would never know what a lovely place it truly is. So full of history. It's so quaint. Such a vast number of business opportunities, as well, I can certainly see why my mum chose it. But _still_, the schools are littered with such colorfully obsessed preteens." She chuckles softly. I smile, unable to help agreeing with her. "I have come across the crush or two in my lifetime, but never as determined as these. And not to be offensive, you know I hold only the highest regards of you, but I never would have pegged you for the type." She raises an astute eyebrow at me, half her mouth quirked.

My eyes flutter behind my thin glasses, and my mouth opens. It takes me a moment, but then words come out, hollow and hoarse as they may be, shallow through my wheezing, "Uh, yeah, well… it wasn't like it was my choice." I shrug weakly. It wasn't my choice. It just swallowed me whole, ate up years of my life then spat me out to an empty existence.

Astrid smiles, tilting her head to me, dark curls falling soft on her shoulder. "I suppose it _does_ just come out of the blue." She releases a sigh and shifts over to lean against the wall, hooking one ankle over the other. "Never a choice…"

I blink at her, copying her actions and leaning against the wall. Cheek against the wall, I look at her, forcing my curiosity through my wheezes, "How would… you know…?" It's none of my business. That's what I'd told myself for months. But I want to know now. Any distraction.

She doesn't reply for a while. She doesn't seem to have any intention of doing so either. Her expression stays the same, she doesn't move. Her eyes have shifted up to look at the lights, seeming curious of how they could have gone from bright to dim. I want to ask again, but at the same time I don't. Finally, though, her voice comes, unhesitant, yet I swear for a moment I hear a crack, "Just because I've never been in love before doesn't mean I haven't _loved_." Her shrug barely even happens.

I just nod in response. I'm not sure I completely understand, but it's enough to quench my curiosity for now. I look away and stare out over my longtime classmates. We've fallen into a silence, but I don't believe it's awkward by any means. Although I'm not the most experienced on matters such as these, so I cannot be sure. She appears contented, though, so I'll leave well enough alone. I'd appreciate a few minutes to gather my thoughts anyway.

I'm not entirely sure what has happened to me tonight. I'm starting to feel more like my normal self now, but something's different. I can't put my finger on it. It doesn't seem important, though, so my thoughts fall away from it. My eyes land on Harold and Patty across the room, talking in a similar fashion as Astrid and I moments before. They're tucked in a quiet corner of the room, by the snack table, but Harold seems unconcerned by it, miraculously. His focus is on Patty, whose smile is kind and happy. His own mirrors it as they talk. I think everyone saw those two getting together. After Harold's outburst on the matter of his and Patty's association so long ago, it was to be expected. I'd have been shocked if they hadn't.

They're not officially in any sort of binding relationship, though. Or at least, they haven't announced anything. I wouldn't expect them to, though. Patty is just a naturally private and conservative person, and Harold has proven to be a bit embarrassed by his obvious liking of Patty. But there is an understanding between everyone that they belong to each other. Anyone with eyes would know they did. Though I'm sure everyone expected them to get together because they're both bullies and the same age, I know better. Patty is sweet and polite, very casual and unconcerned, inanimate and soft-spoken. She puts on a show of toughness but it's only so people will leave her alone. The same reason I imagine Harold pretends he's tough and makes fun of people. In most ways, though, Harold is the complete opposite of her. On a regular day, he shows immaturity, whiny tendencies, a quickness to violence, and extreme cowardice. I don't mean to insult; it is merely an observation. One I'm wise enough to keep to myself. But he completely transforms around Patty.

He turns to a kind, brave young man, his normally angry, defensive countenance melting into a happy, relaxed composure. It's refreshing to see him like that. Especially since the age difference between him and the rest of us is so striking. While we're all twelve, he's sixteen. It's startling to see two sixteen-year-olds in the company of a bunch of much smaller preteens. One would assume he's someone's big brother here, but he's not. He is just as large and brute-like as I thought he would be at this age, and as a geek, I would be lying if that didn't scare me a little. I know him better than to think he would ever actually hurt me or anyone else, it is just my baser instincts that sometimes tell me to run when he walks into the room. He seems perfectly normal and sociable, though, and I don't believe anyone would even notice the height difference with how he is right now. He belongs with these people.

These people I've suddenly started to realize don't know the first thing about me. I've always felt like I belong around them, but it's starting to occur to me the sentiment is most likely not returned. I'd never thought about that before. I'm still empty inside. I'm unsure of how to feel. Should I care? I never have before. I'm the shadow of the group, the lint on their sleeves, the paint under the wallpaper, the freckle on the back of their neck. They know at the back of their minds I'm here, but I'm of no concern to them. If I burst into flames tomorrow in the middle of class, they'd barely bat an eye.

That's… odd to think.

Why does this suddenly matter?

I'm broken from my thoughts at Astrid's hand on my arm. For once, I'm endlessly grateful for the distraction. My head slowly turns to her, and I see the raised eyebrow, the crinkle of concern in her brow. I know of her worries before she even speaks. "Brainy, you look troubled." She leaves it at that. It is a simple statement, but I know she expects a response.

This talking through my heavy breathing is difficult. I don't very much like it. My hand seems to agree with my thoughts as it wraps around the inhaler in my pocket and brings the device to my face. Taking a puff of it, I sigh out in sweet relief. The wheezing's gone for now. My mouth forms the words, "I'm fine," and my deep, guttural vocals follow.

I used up some of my medicine to say _that_? Oh, I'm sad.

Astrid doesn't seem satisfied either. Her eyebrows furrow slightly and she puts her hands on her hips, her posture straightening. "I don't believe you."

I can't help but smirk at her, half-hearted as it may be, still slumped against the wall. "As you rarely do, Miss Baldric."

Her response is immediate. She hisses through her teeth and slaps a hand over my mouth, the disgust and panic written all over her face. Her words come through her teeth, "_Do not ever say that_, _Brainy_. You _know_ how I despise that _word_."

I just chuckle through her hand, my silver eyes having to squeeze shut. My shoulders quake.

Astrid isn't so amused. Her hand tightens and her fingers twist into my cheeks, making my eyes pop open. Her face is close to mine, her eyes serious. Astrid is about as nonviolent as they come, Sheena being the only one I can think of that could beat her in an 'I don't beat' competition, but at this moment, you wouldn't know it. Her eyes really do look like knives, and I can feel them at my throat even though her eyes are focused on mine. "It is not funny, Brainy." Each word is it's own, punctuated with meaning.

My eyes dilate from behind my glasses, slight lines showing under them. It's a gut reaction, but it lasts only a moment. I smile, knowing she'll be able to feel it through her hand. I'm not afraid of her. But I do respect her. Still, it's fun to see her react so extremely to something so silly and simple, and I needed her distracted. I don't wish to speak to her about my sudden emptiness or the questions arising inside me. I'm intelligent, my grades and offers to skip over grades prove so, I can figure it out for myself. Just not now, and not when we've been having a good time.

She keeps her look a moment longer before her façade melts, and she rolls her eyes, fast, a mere flick upward before she lets out a huff of air from her cheeks. Her voice is silvery, though she appears to be attempting to hide her good humor, "For someone with so few words to himself, you cause so much trouble." She releases my mouth.

Rubbing my cheek a little, I keep my smile. "Words are powerful things."

Her response is a flat hum. "I don't like you."

"Your floating around me on a regular basis suggests otherwise."

She snaps her eyes upward and away, waving a hand. "Technicalities." She smiles at me then, full of amusement and companionship. Then it's gone. "But you best not ever call me that name ever a-bloody-'gain, you gormless little nutter." Her eyes are cut at me, trying to be serious.

I blink at her, my eyes wide. Was I just insulted? I certainly know I was threatened. But that's nothing new. I still find it strange sometimes why she gets like this just from me calling her by her last name, but I guess I understand her concerns somewhat. I was named after a gooey, pink, vital organ after all. It's not the prettiest of pictures when you really think about it.

After a moment, though, I smile, bemused. "Of course, Astrid. I still don't think it's so bad, but it's 'horses for courses,' right?"

This causes her to crack a smile. She shakes her head at me, wavy tendrils swinging in and out of her face. "So close and yet so far, Brainy. I'm afraid you're far from British."

I purse my lips tightly. "Well, I'll just have to try harder."

She laughs out a quick guffaw before sighing and patting me on the back. "Ah, Brainy, don't quit your day job."

I merely shrug my shoulders in response. I'll be doing more research regardless. It's been a casual hobby I picked up a couple weeks ago out of determination to understand her and the alien language she uses. Apparently different parts of England use different words, though, like how different people from different parts of America may use different phrases that may seem foreign to others. I haven't been able to pinpoint what part Astrid is from, though. Her speech is all over the place. When I asked her about it, though, she just shrugged and muttered, "Lots of moving." So the task has proved difficult. There's too much ground to cover, and it's near impossible to remember the specific usages of all the words I've had to look up. I feel as if I'm trying to learn Swahili or Latin or something else equally painstaking. Lucky for me and everyone else, though, Astrid told me she did some research of her own of American English before she moved here, as to not appear too out of the ordinary. But her knowledge on the subject is anything but extensive. She once said to me, "Cor blimey! He's full of beans. Gumby's made me more gobsmacked than someone at her Majesty's pleasure." To this day I'm still unsure of the exact meaning of her words. It was something about Curly, though, so based off that and her tone alone I know it most likely wasn't something pleasant.

Music fills my ears suddenly for the second time this evening, and my mind wanders elsewhere. Astrid wanted to dance before. People have been casually dispersing for all of twenty minutes now. It won't be long before the party's come to an end, and we're kicked out. This may be our last chance.

Swallowing, I nervously bring my eyes up to her face, deciding I'm willing to risk my own comfort this one time. Offering a hand to her, I try to be brave, "Uh, still want to dance?"

She looks at me as if I've sprouted a third eye. "In case you've gone deaf as well as dumb, I feel I should inform you that this is a _slow_ song." She puts very thick emphasis on this. "I told you before I don't like slow dancing." She crosses her arms over her chest.

I let a breath out through my nose. "Yeah, but it's the only type of dancing you're ever going to get me to go along with."

Her mouth twitches. I recognize her expression as one of discomfort. "It would be… awkward."

I only shrug. "Only if we make it be."

She still looks uncertain. She shifts on her feet, icicle eyes tentatively eyeing my still-outstretched hand as my fingers waggle with a silent invitation. "I don't know, Brainy…"

I don't know why she's shying away from this. Normally she would have thrown caution to the wind and dragged my terrified, regretful rag of a body to the middle of the room by now. I'm surprised to find myself disheartened by the change. I only mean this as a friendly gesture, but am I really that repulsive to think of in even the smallest of romantic ways? Gulping slightly, my mouth dry, I warn her, "If you don't make up your mind soon, I _will_ change my—"

And before I know it, she's nabbed my hand, voracious grin suddenly bright on her face. "You're right, let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

**Watching**

* * *

Next thing I know she's dragging me across the floor, with an enthusiasm similar to when she'd been doing so with the regular, kooky dance music of before. I was right, I am regretting this. I can't deny that I'm also greatly relieved, though. Somehow the idea of Astrid _not_ being impulsive and freaking me out has come to unnerve me even more so than her random compulsions. Yet still, I can't deny the slivers of regret. I'm no dancer though I always thought one day I would be, but Astrid was never who I had in mind when I thought of my first slow dance.

Once she's in place, and I've stumbled my way in front of her, only just barely keeping myself from smashing my face into the floor, she throws her body around me. I freeze, the sudden contact being more than I've ever had to bear in a lifetime. I hear her laugh, though, and she says quietly from her head past my neck, curls smashed against the side of my head, "What's wrong, Brainiac, this not quite what you had in mind?"

Relaxing slightly in her arms, I mutter, "You're doing this on purpose."

She just laughs, and blessfully pulls away from me, smirking with that usual teasing side-grin. "Always so sharp. But fear not, Brainy, your neck is cold anyway."

Sheepishly, I quip back, "Give it a few nights under the heating pad, it'll be as warm as the sun."

"Is that an invitation?"

Smirk curving gently over my lips, I deadpan, "No. Your face is cold."

Laughing outright, she mocks a hard shudder and says, "Well, thank the Heavens for that. That was a tad bit too chummy for my liking." She fakes a grimace.

Going along with the joke, I suggest with a smile, "Perhaps we start with handholding then?"

With but a flick of an eye roll, her opinion on the subject is revealed, and I can't help but share her grin.

We fall into a comfortable, easy sway as the music plays, her hands on my shoulders and mine on her sides. Her eyes have gone to focus on something on the other side of the room over my shoulder, and I spare only a few more seconds to look at her thought-fogged eyes before my own wander off as well.

I'm trying to find the silver lining in all this. I'm no Arnold when it comes to 'bright sides,' but I've always thought myself a sensible, pleasant person. It's not the easiest task to think on a time in the past I _wasn't_ smiling. Unless I was surprised by something, that is. There's always some joke in my head that no one else is in on but me, and a laugh just underlying my heavy breathing. Watching everyone go on with their crazy lives was like cable television to me. I never thought I'd see the day I'd be a _part_ of a joke. Helga and Arnold genuinely seem to think Astrid and I have something going on between us, and they were amused by it.

And now, for once in my life, I'm sharing a joke with someone. People can think what they wish, but Astrid and I know the truth. It's like a secret we're holding now that no one else is in on. Granted, we tried to let them in on it, and they agreed to keep quiet from now on, but I'm no fool. I've been observing human behavior for my entire life. I can tell when someone isn't being totally sincere. I saw that flicker in Helga's eyes before she left. She's still holding her suspicions. And though I was shocked at the time, now that it's passed, I can't help but find it a tad funny.

That shock, though… The strangest series of emotions passed through me then. Something changed. Something left. I can't discern whether it was good or bad, though. It feels like neither. It's almost as if it never left at all, like nothing went away. Maybe nothing did… Perhaps I'm only over thinking this. But if it was truly nothing… then there would be nothing to think about in the first place. No silver lining to be sought. Then again, if it was not a bad thing, then there would be no need to find a silver lining in the first place, or to even have the thought pass my mind. Perhaps whatever happened _was_ bad.

Or maybe I've just lost my mind.

That would be the most likely. But still, there is an emptiness that wasn't there before. It's not aching or crying out to be filled, though. It's just… there.

It's a strange life one leads when you spend your life giggling in shadows at others so confused by simplicities such as these, only to find yourself in a situation just the same. Is this what karma is like? I'd never thought I was doing anything wrong. Yet that emptiness rests in the pit of my stomach, and although perhaps not good or bad, it's strange and calls forth my attention. I wonder if a wind suddenly came from nowhere and ran through me, would my midsection whistle like a flute? I don't know whether to be concerned or not. But then, if thought doesn't help, then only time will tell, I guess. Nothing more I can really do.

My eyes come out of my thoughts and into focus. It's then I realize I've been looking at Nadine and Peapod Kid all this time. Or, his real name's actually Pearce Podalecki, though very few people know that I think. The only reason I do is because… well, I'm me. I know nearly everything around here. I hadn't realized I was staring, though they seem unconcerned, just drinking their punch wordlessly. Peapod Kid and Nadine aren't together, but I happen to know Peapod has a crush on her. He has for many years now, since way back before I even know. Rhonda and him are both rich—they go to the same country clubs, the same retreats, sometimes even the same shared vacation homes, to my understanding—and Rhonda and Nadine have been best friends for years, so it's only natural the two would have known each other for a good portion of their lives. Who knows when he started liking her? I can only guess.

I had my suspicions for a long time, but it wasn't until Rhonda brought that origami marriage predictor to school that I was sure. Pearce had gotten Nadine as his match, voiced his satisfaction, and then gratefully shaken Rhonda's hand, so I know Rhonda must have known about it beforehand. To my knowledge, she's never meddled, though. She seems to hold some respect for Peapod, and hasn't ever felt the need to help him in any way.

Nadine knows, though. I can tell by the flat expression she has on whenever he walks up to her. Nadine is very perceptive, so there's just as much a chance she's always known as there is Rhonda told her. Either way, though, she knows. By her body language one might assume she's not interested, but I know she likes him too. I heard her say so once, casually and with a shrug. Nadine has always been somewhat of a tomboy, and has never shown interest in romance before, but she likes him. She just doesn't make it a big deal. Pearce tries to strike up conversations with her every few weeks or months or so, or just stands idly around in her personal space, but he's never made a move. She often seems bored with his 'hinting.' I can't help but agree with her. Even now as he stares at her with punch cup in hand, she looks bored, and she rolls her eyes to herself every time she takes a sip.

When you have serious, longstanding feelings for someone, just standing around and dropping hints is about the dullest thing you can do. Perhaps I don't seem like one to talk, but I've never made any effort to keep my old affections hidden. I made them so obvious it's almost painful to think back on. When I was in love with Helga, I rose out of chimneys in full tuxedo, I put on bowties and proposed to her, I followed her everywhere and didn't even bother to use my inhaler to keep myself hidden. Now _that_ is how you pursue a lady. Clearly, obviously, and… pathetically.

I'm a very peculiar person. Where did I get these convoluted assumptions about how to handle love?

Eyes falling heavy, I muse that that's a rather dim-witted query. I was in love with _Helga_, of course, and that was how she dealt with love, so naturally I assumed that was how she wanted to be pursued. I don't believe I was wrong, either. I was doing all the right things that she would have normally squealed and fainted about… I was just the wrong person.

Still, despite my slightly crooked views, I still hold the opinion one should always be straightforward with love. Granted… that didn't work very well for me, but Helga was never my true love. Peapod's affections are _returned_. Perhaps he doesn't know that, but he'll never get anywhere by just standing around staring at her. At least if he told her or kissed her or something he would plant the seed in her head. I've noticed sometimes the problem isn't that the love isn't true or right, it's simply that the other person had never realized it was there before. But he'll never know that she returns the sentiment until he goes for it. Love has no room for cowardice.

Or egos, for that matter. I don't know Pearce very well, but based off the little observations I've made, he seems rather stuck up. Much like Rhonda is—it must just be something that comes with money. But if anyone can handle the filthy rich and stuck up, it's Nadine. She's best friends with the most spoiled rich of them all, after all, and Peapod could never match Rhonda's ego. I also happen to know he has a very wide vernacular and is quite intelligent, I've caught him reading in the library more times than I can count, nonfiction strictly. A suitable match for Nadine, I believe. If only he'd make a move. With a nose that high in the air, though, I doubt that will be happening any time soon. He's drawn it out for this long after all.

Oh, why am I thinking so deeply about this? Is my life so boring that the only way I feel I can live is through others? I've spent so long doing nothing but watching other people live. How would they feel if they knew I knew so much about them, when they in fact know nothing of me? I know I must appear creepy, Astrid has teased me on that before and I've never objected, but I'm not _really_. I just… don't have anything better to do. Especially in the last few years, I've had nothing occupying my time at all. And is it really so bad that I find my friends so interesting? Is it so wrong to take an interest in a companion's life? …Even if they don't _know _you're taking it?

I think about it a few moments longer, as the music fades into it's last few notes, before making a decision. I stop dancing.

"Astrid…" I address, brow slightly stressed and eyes still away.

I hear her hum questioningly, seeming distracted.

My voice cracks. "Could you… help me?"

This seems to grasp her attention. Her voice comes, "Help you with what?"

I can feel the telltale signs of asthma starting to grip at my lungs again, the wheezing choking it's return. All this stress and overactive heart rate, no doubt. Still, I manage, quiet as it may be, "To… _not_ be anti-social?"

It's silent for a small while. Then, the silence comes to a crashing halt when she says seriously, accent thick, "No, I don't believe I could."

My head swivels over to stare her in the face, gawking. Perhaps a bit of an overreaction, but I hadn't expected a no.

When I look at her, though, she's grinning the smallest of grins, her sky eyes with the hint of a sun beam in them. "Don't give me that look, Brainiac. So much reading and yet you can't recognize a clear English 'Yes' when you hear one." She tilts her head ever so slightly, nose crinkling slightly. "A small quip. I'd be daft not to agree. You're a good friend." She blinks then, her face going blank with curious confusion. "Why the sudden change of heart, though?"

Eyes flapping, still processing what she'd just done and said, my lips move only half consciously, "Just… wanna…"

She merely sighs in response. "Very well. Be that way." There's a moment of silence. Then the edge of her mouth twitches. "_You will be filling me in later, right_?" She looks at me imploringly, eyes going as wide as they can go.

I simply blink a few times, and my wheezing spikes heavier for a split second. But then the exasperation sets in. "_Astrid_…" I resist an eye roll at her nosy ways. She's almost as bad as me. Only she doesn't know how to get information without having to actually ask… Actually, she doesn't know how to not talk _period_. But I digress.

Her mouth quivers and a huffing breath comes out through slightly open teeth. "Agh, so private. It's simply not fair. I've known you for some time now and I still rarely if ever know what's going on in your head."

My eyebrows shoot up at that. Possibly the most preposterous statement I've ever heard her say.

She sees my look and a smirk cracks her mouth. "All right, so I may have a _clue_. But that's only if you're thinking of saying something. More often than not – and don't fall down dead when I say this – I can't read you for the life of me. It's bloody infuriating." Her eyes spark then, and she grins. "Oh, that's brilliant. Lesson number one: _speak your thoughts, _you twit."

My eyebrows furrow. "Nice try…"

"No, no, seriously, Brain." She shifts her body slightly, coming closer so I can see the firmness in her expression. "You think so much, it's almost _all_ you do. Well, step one is really quite simple. Say some of those thoughts _aloud_ for once."

I stare at her blankly, brain dead.

She stares back relentlessly for a while, until finally an eyebrow quirks up. "Brainy?"

I blink a few times, shaking my head quick. "I'm sorry, what?" I look at her confusedly.

She hums to herself, eyebrows furrowing and mouth going straight. "This is going to be harder than I thought." Sighing, she grips my shoulders more firmly, as if trying to grip my attention, and asks me, "A few moments ago, when we were dancing and it was quiet… what were you thinking about?"

I shrug carelessly. "What were you?"

She looks at me oddly. "Brainy, just tell me."

I give her a look, putting an emphasis on my wheezing with a few hard breaths.

She just rolls her eyes. "Oh, for the love of biscuits and cheese—" the rest of her complaint is mumbled under her breath, as she reaches a hand down to root through my pockets for my inhaler.

My eyes go wide in an instant and I squeak, "Not my inhaler!"

"Oh!" Her hand retreats immediately, shaking, and her face bursts out in blush. "Right. So sorry." She laughs a quick, short laugh before her hand comes up to show me my inhaler, smiling sheepishly. "Other pocket. Um, right, well… here." She pushes it towards my face and I fumble to grasp it with my hands fast before it falls, taking a puff of it, eyes closing and nerves racing.

"Now then… your thoughts?"

My eyes pop open in an instant. "_Thoughts on what_?"

She coughs out a laugh at my reaction and repeats, somewhat nervously still, "When we were dancing, what were you thinking about? I _know_ you were thinking, so don't say you were not. Just tell me, could it really have been _so_ bad?"

"Oh…" I let out a breath, free of wheezing, and nod. "Yes, that. Well, I…" My eyes shoot away a second, in the direction of Nadine and Peapod, before going back to Astrid, tentative. It's not _that_ wretched what I was thinking, I suppose. So I have deep contemplations on certain couples' relationships sometimes? It is but a hobby, and so far Astrid has yet to judge me. She knows more than anyone else about me, things _far_ more strange than this, and she's still here. "Okay, fine," I relent, posture relaxing. "You know Peapod Kid and Nadine?"

Her eyes light up, and she smiles a lively smile. "Oh, yes, Pearce. A nice chap. He tells me he's visited London more times than he can count." Her smile lessening a tad, she tilts her head a little and says, "I don't know Nadine too well, I'm afraid, though. We have talked but she seems mainly to want to chat about insects." Her face twists, making it clear she has no interest in such things.

I smile a bit stiffly, nodding my head. I didn't know she knew Peapod's real name too. "Yeah, them. Well, you want to know what I was thinking about so much? I was thinking about them."

Astrid blinks at me, once, her face frozen into an unreadable expression. She clearly didn't expect me to say that. Finally, though, her voice comes, "Them?" It is a simple question, and one I expected.

I nod, before launching into my explanation, perhaps a tad too eagerly, "Yes, you see, I've known for a very long time now that Peapod has had a crush on Nadine. And for years now, he's been trying to let her know just by standing around, getting her punch at parties sometimes, and staring. What I was thinking about was what a shame that is. I overheard once Nadine say she returned the sentiment, but she wants him to make the move. But it has been _years_, and he has still yet to actually _do_ anything, so I was just—"

I stop talking when I see Astrid suddenly spin on her heel and walk calmly over to where Peapod and Nadine are. The breath shoots out of my lungs when she says a few words to them that I can't hear, before grabbing them both by their hands and putting them together. A few more words are said between them, before Astrid turns back around and walks over to me once more. My eyes remain on Nadine and Pearce, though, who have yet to separate their hands.

When Astrid is back in front of me, I look at her to see her looking at me with her brow stressed, irked. "There now, are you satisfied?"

Mouth still agape, I just stare at her, stupefied. Finally, I manage to stutter out, "Why did you—"

She interrupts me, snippily, "I merely wanted to satisfy your inane wish to see those two together. Now they are, simple as that. Now you don't have to dwell on such things anymore. Are you not appeased?"

Almost against my will, I burst out with, "_Astrid_! You cannot just do things like that! They have to happen naturally and without—"

"People come together through other people all the time. It is not unnatural. What is unnatural, though, is that you have felt the need to ponder and obsess over it for _years_, apparently." Her eyes snap straight up for a fraction of a second, but I see it nonetheless.

I stiffen. "I shouldn't have shared."

Her face softens as soon as these words reach her, and she shakes her head quick, sadly. "Oh, no, no, Brainy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

I interrupt her, "No, this isn't about me at all, is it? You just have a crush on Peapod." I smile, the answer clear now. "Why didn't you just tell me? I'm sorry, if I had known I wouldn't have said all I said. I didn't mean to make you feel so bad."

Her eyes shooting wide, her voice comes incredulously, almost disgusted, "You think I fancy _Pearce_?" Suddenly looking sickly, she gags out, "No, no, no—Oh, Brainy, how could you have gotten such an idea? Your imagination is simply rampant in that crazy noodle of yours, isn't it?" Putting a hand to her mouth, she shakes her head. After a moment, she stops this and sighs shakily, before looking at me sincerely, "No, Brainy, I am sorry. But I'm just baffled why a gentleman of your caliber would waste his days thinking on such garbage. Is that truly all you've been thinking about?"

Smiling, slightly hurt and feeling muddled, I confess, "Yes. That and that I'm probably not right in the head. Thank you for confirming that."

Her sharp eyes widen. "Brainiac…" she utters softly, unsurely, with an addled countenance, "do not take this the wrong way. I just don't understand. I'd never imagined that would be all that is running through your head—"

"That isn't all I think about," I correct her, sighing. "I think about lots of other things. But my thoughts mainly revolve around, well… my class." After confessing to this after so many years of thinking it, the words begin to flow out like a waterfall, "I think you forget, Astrid. I've been in the same class with these people for my entire life. I know them all like the back of my hand, but I've never talked to them. But I still know them because, for years, all I've done is stand around and… watch. I think it's fun. All day, every day, for _years_ now, that's what I've done. I spend my days around these people, playing baseball, doing homework, riding to and from school with on the bus, following on their adventures, and _watching_. It's not just the relationships I think about, it's them in general. Their ways, their quirks, their facial expressions, their reactions to things, their _lives_—this may seem strange to you, Astrid, but I find it all endlessly fascinating."

Her eyes are extremely large right now, the widest I've ever seen them, and I can't help but stare at the end of my speech. I didn't know they were that wide. They're nowhere near as wide as Helga's, but somehow, I'm glad they're not. With eyes that razorblade sharp, if they went any bigger, I may actually start to feel blood when she looks at me. Startling me suddenly, she speaks, eyes still wide, "Have you ever noticed how Rhonda is offended whenever people do not cheer her goodbye after parties, but she never says anything?"

Confused by the drastic change of topic, I mutter, "Well, I… Yes, actually, I have." Blinking suddenly, I ask, "How did you know?"

She smiles, eyes sparkling with amusement. "The tiniest little wrinkle appears—"

"—on her forehead," I finish with her, grinning. "You noticed too. With all the parties she's been hosting lately, that's going to be a full-fledge wrinkle by the time she's seventeen."

A grin springs onto her face as well. "_Right_?" Chortling, she grabs my wrist and begins to pull. "I was just about to say. But we should continue this conversation outside, it is getting late. But before we go, we _must_ say goodbye and tell her how _simply brill_ the evening was." She rolls her eyes with a grin.

I chuckle and nod my agreement, following behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Final part. :P Did I mention I did a ridiculous amount of research for all this? British people are weird. :P Don't blame me for all the crappy British speak, I did my best. :P As for all the atrocious switching between past and present, I tried to fix it, but I done failed. :P I don't know how I got that so screwed up. I think it was originally past but then I switched to present without realizing and didn't know how to fix it. XD Everything about this is awkward, LOL.

In any case, super short chapter 'cause it's not finished. XD Enjoy :p

* * *

**Watching**

* * *

As Rhonda comes into sight, sitting on the couch with Curly twined around her, Astrid pulls me beside her as she addresses her, not wasting a second, "Rhonda, I commend you on the party and thank you for inviting me. Brainy does as well." She nodded to me, used to having to speak for me.

I add something this time, though, for once not finding doing so bothersome, "Yeah, it was fun."

Astrid looks pleasantly surprised for a split-second before it's gone and she's back to business, smiling at Rhonda. "Well, yes, but though it was a lovely evening, we simply must dash."

"_Astrid_," Rhonda glides up from her seat, the name coming like butter off of her lips. She smiles almost lovingly. I still find this part of these gatherings a tad creepy. "Oh, of course, darling, tea and crumpets and all that, right? Perhaps with the queen?"

Astrid's eye twitches slightly. It's the smallest of things, hardly noticeable, but I always see it when it happens. I watch for it. I think it's hilarious. "Right, right, tea and crumpets and _oh_, it's been such a jolly good evening!" She coughs, the faintest and almost unintelligible utterance of "what crap" hidden betwixt it. I hide a smile.

Rhonda giggles, delighting in the accent accompanying these words. "_Oh_, darling, we simply must do this again sometime." She starts leading Astrid away to the door with a hand to her back. Astrid lets go of my wrist when this happens, and I stare at them wandering away, incredulous at her complete ignoring of me. Sharing a quick look with Curly—though I don't know why, as seeing that manic twinkle there always sends a shiver down my spine—I run quick to catch up with them.

Walking behind them, my ears pick up Astrid's words, "Uh, sure, Rhonda. I'm sure we will be doing that." I can almost hear her thoughts being whispered into my head, the slow, quiet uttering of, _I won't have a choice, will I?_

Rhonda's response is immediate, "So glad you agree!" Once the door is open and she's standing there holding it open for her, grin apparent, she waves a hand and says, outrageously, "Well, pip pip cheerio and all that rot!"

Astrid stops immediately at hearing this, her world no doubt coming to a crashing halt, just as mine does. I instantly find I have to slam a hand over my face to keep from dying out laughing right there.

Astrid stays this way for a second or two more, stalk-straight and no doubt frozen faced, though I can't see her expression. Then, she turns to Rhonda, nods her head, and says stiffly, "_Right_… gov'na." And then she's out the door in a flash.

My feet take on a mind of their own and I chase after quick, out the door and down the street after her, laughing as loudly as my lungs will let me. I hear Rhonda close the door behind us, and that's right about the time when Astrid stops and I crash into her back.

Astrid stumbles forward and I throw my arms out to grab her before she falls.

After a second of mentally checking that we're not dead, Astrid bursts out in a shout, "'_Pip pip cheerio and all that rot'? Seriously?_"

Laughter thundering out of my chest, I grip her tighter without thinking and let my head fall flat on her back. "Well at least the dreaded wrinkle didn't appear!"

Whether or not she hears me, I don't know. "_Tea and crumpets with the queen? Oh, _yes, and I'm so sure she'll be off baking cakes with the president!"

I chortle out, "_Gov'na_!"

"_To think_ the stereotypes are truly this bad! It's astonishing! Where do you get these outlandish ideas?"

Shrugging, and practically crying into her back by this point, I wheeze out, "Uh, I don't know…"

Sigh escaping her, she steps out of my arms and turns around. "Please, calm yourself, Brainy. Much like every other conversation with Rhonda, I now must begin the repression process."

Stumbling slightly, and still wheezing a little, my inhaler appears almost out of nowhere in my hand and I take a swig of it. Once that's taken care of, I resume my laughing, loud and boisterous with my hands on my stomach.

She just sighs and crosses her arms, waiting for me to be done.

Instead though I fall to the ground completely, rolling on my back left and right in hysterics.

Finally, I begin to hear her joining in, her chuckle light and airy before gaining in sound. Before either of us know it she's leaning against the building with giggle after giggle soundlessly falling out of her and I'm still rolling around on the sidewalk at seven o'clock at night howling with laughter.

After what feels like an eternity and I'm just starting to feel myself needing my inhaler again (at this rate I'm going to need a new one within the week, and my parents are _not_ going to be happy), we fall into a smiling silence.

She is the first to speak (as usual, I can't help but think with renewed amusement), "Meanwhile Curly is sitting there grinning like a bloody imbecile."

I laugh, twisting my head slightly to look at her with gleaming eyes behind thin glass. "He's under her spell, don't blame him. I knew Curly before he met Rhonda and would you believe that he was actually perfectly calm?"

Her eyes snap to me in an instant, ablaze with mirth and her grin stretching from here to Idaho. "_Was he really_?"

I nod, sitting up on the concrete with my hands on my knees, grinning up at her. "Yep. A perfectly normal, blend-into-the-background type of person."

"Ha," she says simply, eyes flicking away with a grin. Then she looks at me again, still leaning against the building with her legs stretched out, hands clasped together excitedly. "Oh, oh, have you noticed how every time Rhonda calls someone 'darling,' he's actually _jealous_?"

Eyes widening, I look at her, grin still in place. "_You noticed_?"

Rolling her eyes, she says merrily, "Oh, please, how could anyone not? That ever present spark of madness flares so bright I feel I may go blind before the night is up." Sighing with a hint of melodramatics, she crosses her arms and shakes her head. "And to think night time is often when I have my tea with Queen Elizabeth scheduled." Shaking her head more seriously now, she looks down at me and quirks her mouth to the side. "You want to know the saddest part to all this? I don't even _like_ tea."

Snickering, I reach over and teasingly tug on her dress. "British and don't like tea? Preposterous!"

She laughs, batting my hand away. "Oh, I know, I'm terrible."

It suddenly occurs to me we're actually having this conversation, and after I confessed to something I'd ever told anyone before. I have to ask, "Astrid, is it just me, or do you have a soft spot for watching as well?" I can't help the slight tenseness that tags along with these words. It hadn't occurred to me before, but it seems like that really is what she's getting at with all this.

It takes a moment or two for it to appear, but then it comes, a benign smile with the hint of ruefulness. "Perhaps. I'm not sure you can so much call it watching, as I just kind of randomly notice these things. But I do think on them a lot. I find them amusing. Fascinating, as well, as you said. I have been around a lot, met a lot of people. But I never get too close to them." Her eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes unfocused with thought as her voice drops lower. "I suppose I do kind of watch them, don't I? They're like science projects or something. Food for thought." Shaking her head, she looks down at me and smiles. "I was shocked to hear you say all you said. I don't think you're weird. Humanity is interesting, right?"

My eyes softening slightly, I quietly respond, "Yes. Yes it is."

_**NOT SO FIN**_


End file.
